


Different Now

by straighthairdelphine



Category: Carol (2015), The Price of Salt - Patricia Highsmith
Genre: Abby and Genevieve brotp, Actors, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Art, Bartenders, Carol's life is complicated af, Eventual Romance, F/F, Family, Fluff, Friends With Benefits, Friendship, Lots of parties, New York City, Photography, Romance, Slow Burn, Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:00:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 65,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24487861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/straighthairdelphine/pseuds/straighthairdelphine
Summary: A chance encounter with a lost little girl in Central Park leads aspiring photographer Therese Belivet into the life of movie star Carol Aird, whose life isn't nearly as glamorous as it seems. There's instant attraction, but can the two women navigate the difficulties of fame and fortune to finally have the life they choose together? Inspired by the film Notting Hill.
Relationships: Carol Aird/Therese Belivet
Comments: 425
Kudos: 618





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone, I'm back with my second Carol fic! I enjoyed writing Electric Blue so much, and was blown away by all the love, so I decided to take another whack at writing. I was watching the film Notting Hill when I got the idea for this story. It will take place over the span of a year, focusing mainly on one summer. The title is taken from the song Different Now by Chastity Belt, so any lyrics that accompany a chapter are from that song. I hope you enjoy the first chapter, and if you do, let me know!

**SUMMER**

  
_What's so great about New York?_   
  
Therese had been pondering it for a few weeks now. What was it about this place that made people consider it the centre of the universe? The greatest city in the world? Countless movies were made about it. Countless books were written about it. Frank Sinatra even sung about it.   
  
Therese Belivet grew up in New York. Raised in the foster system across the poor neighbourhoods of The Bronx and Queens after being abandoned at birth by her Czech parents, she had a different view of New York than many other people. She was detached from the mythology of glitz and glamour that seemed to capture the imagination of the many that move to the city, in search of something better. She knew the truth. For Therese, New York wasn't about seeking her fortune. It was about surviving.  
  
There was, of course, the art scene. That was a huge benefit of staying. But photography was a dream that was growing more distant every day, sinking into the background like an idea she once had in her past, not something she aspired to in the future. Therese knew if she was truly serious about becoming a professional photographer, she would have to start dedicating some serious time and effort. But how was she supposed to pursue her goals when she was working every hour God sent in her best friends' bar, just so she could make enough money to rent her dive of an apartment?  
  
New York just didn't feel like it was for her anymore. She saw people getting priced out all the time, people like her. Those who had grown up in the poorer neighbourhoods of the city and watched helplessly as rising rent costs drove them out of the only place they had ever called home. The city was becoming a playground for the rich and famous, or the West Coast hippies who had moved here on their parents' trust funds. Meanwhile, Therese was living paycheck to paycheck and still spend most of her time worrying about money.  
  
Therese had never really considered leaving New York until she broke up with Richard a couple of months before. He was a Manhattan guy, working in a bank thanks to his father's connections, with his sights set on Wall Street. Richard was the epitome of everything she hated about New York, and yet, he was sweet to her. He loved her, that much was clear. But there was always that unspoken condescending, because, as good as Therese could have been to him, she came from nothing. It was why she was so quiet around all his friends, so reluctant to go out with him to the expensive restaurants he loved so much. She was an imposter. It made her uncomfortable. And Richard never did anything to make her feel welcome.   
  
Richard was the latest in a string of short and unsuccessful relationships. She never loved him enough to want to change when they were together, and, looking back on it, she was sure she was never in love with him at all. He wasn't meant for her. She had realised since that no man could be, because it only felt right with women. But she couldn't seem to find any of those either.   
  
She looked back to the book in her lap with a light shake of her head, pulling back from that long tangent her thoughts seem to have drifted on. Reading in Central Park was the main thing that relaxed her on a late May afternoon. She would come here on sunnier days, with a good book and a reusable plastic cup of homemade iced coffee, and soak up the atmosphere for a while. She liked the background noise. Working in a bar had accustomed her to a life surrounded by the chatter of other people, something that was difficult to find in an apartment where she lived alone.  
  
She read a couple more pages, willing herself to focus on the words in front of her, before she found herself distracted by her own peripheral vision.  
  
There was a young girl sat on the other end of the bench, looking over at her, and to the book in her lap. The girl couldn't have been more than eight or nine years old, with dark blonde hair that fell just past her shoulders in loose waves. She wore a red and white striped t-shirt and navy jeans, with white converse sneakers on her small feet.  
  
 _How long has she been sitting there?_ Therese thought. She'd so quietly sat down, Therese hadn't even noticed her.  
  
She offered a small smile to the girl, who looked back at her with a quiet mixture of curiosity and reluctance. She didn't say anything.  
  
Therese turned back to her book, but she found herself looking upwards, to the open green spaces around them, the winding path and the people who followed it. _Where are this girl's parents?_ Everyone in the vicinity was way too young to have an eight year old kid. _Maybe she's with a sitter?_ But no one seemed to be looking for her either. No frantic parents, heads turning this way and that, calling her name. _So no one has lost her._  
  
She turned back to the girl. She looked from the book, to Therese, and back again, shifting uncomfortably when she realised that Therese was watching her.  
  
'You like books, huh?' Therese asked her gently, smiling at her again.  
  
The girl's eyes flickered up to meet hers, then, unsure, to her lips, noticing her smile. She nodded then.  
  
'What's the book?' she asked timidly.  
  
Therese closed the book and held it up to show her, running her fingers across the embellished golden swirls that danced across the cover.  
  
'It's called _Rebecca_ ', Therese replied. 'It was written a really long time ago. I guess you don't know it?'  
  
The girl shook her head.  
  
'What do you like to read?' Therese asked her, hoping to keep her talking. If there was any way of finding out this girl's situation, she would have to win her trust first. She should know. She'd been here before.  
  
The girl started to open up, slowly but surely. Therese could see it in her body language, the way her posture had loosed, her face had softened.   
  
'I like old books too', she said. 'I read _The Secret Garden_ last month'.   
  
'You did? I've read that too, I love it'.   
  
'It was quite hard for me', she confessed. 'My mom helped me with it'.   
  
_Aha_. Here was the cue Therese had hoped for.   
  
'Where _is_ your mom, kid?' she asked, trying to keep her voice neutral, so it didn't sound like a problem. If she drew too much attention to this question, acted like it was a big deal, it would scare her off.   
  
The girl's face became hard again, reluctant. She was protecting herself, Therese could see it. It reminded her of her younger self.   
  
'She's around', the girl responded vaguely, looking away.   
  
'Here at the park?' Therese pressed, but gently.   
  
The girl sighed.   
  
'Are you lost?' Therese asked her finally.   
  
The girl folded her arms sulkily, like she'd received a lecture from an angry parent.  
  
'I ran away', she mumbled.   
  
Therese leaned back against the hard wood of the bench.   
  
'You know, I ran away when I was your age', she confessed.   
  
The girl looked back at her then, eyes widening. 'You did?'   
  
Therese nodded. 'That's how I knew you'd done the same. I've been you before' .   
  
'What happened?' the girl asked.   
  
'I was unhappy at home. I did it more than once, actually. But I always ended up getting lost, and then I got scared. A kind stranger would help me get home. So, now, I have to help _you_ , like they helped me'.   
  
'But I'm not supposed to talk to strangers', the girl protested.   
  
'True', Therese agreed. 'But if we introduce ourselves, then we won't be strangers anymore, right?'   
  
'And I'm definitely not supposed to give my name to strangers'.   
  
'True, again, but I think you're out of options here, kid'. Therese extended her hand to the girl. 'My name is Therese. What's your name?'   
  
The girl looked at her, then to her outstretched hand, then back again. After a moment, she reached out her own small hand.   
  
'It's Rindy', she said, shaking Therese's hand.   
  
'There. Now, will you tell me what's going on?'   
  
Rindy sighed. 'My mom and dad were arguing. Again. I was so sick of it. So I ran away. But now I'm here, and I don't know how to go back'.   
  
'So you _are_ lost', Therese confirmed.   
  
Rindy nodded, still with that same sulkiness, the same reluctance to admit that she needed help. Therese recognised it. A great rebellion gone wrong. She felt bad for her, but perhaps she would have been more sympathetic had she been a few years younger. She knew more now. She knew that you always had to go back. She did, and now Rindy did too.   
  
'How about I call your mom?' Therese suggested.  
  
'I don't know her number. But I know the name of the hotel'.  
  
'Oh, so you don't live in New York?'  
  
'I do sometimes'.  
  
Therese frowned. 'What do you mean?'  
  
'We move around a lot', Rindy answered quietly, like she was unhappy about it.  
  
Therese smiled sympathetically. 'I get that. I used to move around a lot too'.  
  
'Is your mom an actress too?' Rindy asked hopefully, before widening her eyes again, this time clapping a hand over her mouth.  
  
Therese raised an eyebrow. 'What?'  
  
'I shouldn't have said that', she said, panicked.  
  
'It's okay, I won't tell anyone', Therese shrugged, trying to make light of her apparently big revelation. There was definitely something strange about this girl. 'Now, enough with that. What's the name of the hotel?'  
  
'The Plaza', Rindy responded simply.  
  
Therese blinked. 'The Plaza? Wow'. She took out her phone from her jeans pocket, and typed the name of the luxurious hotel into google. 'Okay, well I can just call the front desk and ask to speak to your mom. What's her name?'   
  
Rindy shook her head. 'I can't tell you that. It's the number one rule'.   
  
Therese rolled her eyes. _Definitely something going on_. 'You're very mysterious, you know that?'  
  
Rindy shrugged, a smirk on her face that was somewhere between apologetic and smug, satisfied at having not revealed too much.   
  
'Okay, well how is this supposed to work then?' Therese asked.   
  
'My mom uses a codename when she stays at hotels', Rindy explained. 'That's the way you can talk to her'.  
  
That was the final puzzle piece Therese needed to complete the unique picture of this little girl's life. An actress, using a codename to hide her identity at New York's most expensive hotel.   
  
'Your mom's famous, isn't she?'   
  
Rindy nodded awkwardly. 'That's why I can't tell you her name. People try to go to see her when they know where she is'.  
  
 _Lucky she ran into me then_ , Therese thought. She'd never been one to care about celebrity. Thousands of people in the city were famous, or trying to be, as much as they denied it. Therese found it all very disingenuous.   
  
'Well, do you know the codename?' Therese asked, trying to change the subject.   
  
'Sure. My mom lets me choose them. I've been giving her the names of Marvel characters'.  
  
'What is it then?'   
  
'It's Mrs Thor'.   
  
Therese raised an eyebrow. 'Mrs Thor?'   
  
Rindy smiled, on the verge of a laugh, at her own handiwork.   
  
'Okay, then, I'm gonna call Mrs Thor now', Therese said, shaking her head in disbelief.   
  
'Therese, wait', Rindy stopped her. 'Can you take me back?'   
  
Therese blinked. 'You want me to take you back to The Plaza?'  
  
'They'll send someone from the hotel, or my Aunt Abby, and they'll be really mad. Can't you walk with me?'   
  
'Well, sure, I can take you, it's only down the street'. She sighed. 'Are you sure you won't just let me call the front desk?'   
  
Rindy shook her head, a hopeful questioning on her face.   
  
Therese threw her hands up. 'What the hell, let's do it'.  
  
The little girl smiled gratefully.   
  


* * *

  
  
The change in atmosphere as they passed through the grand entrance of The Plaza and into the lobby, with all its intricate, extravagant décor and the enormous crystal chandelier that hung from the ceiling like a fallen star, was palpable, perhaps shown best in the way in which Rindy was the one who became Therese's guide. Out in the street, through the park and crossing over the road to that iconic place that loomed high above the trees, Therese walked beside Rindy, talking to her about anything and everything, while Rindy followed her every move. Now, the runaway daughter herself emerged from Therese's shadow, confidence growing, as the grand hotel received her once again. This was her environment. Therese wondered what it must be like for Rindy, to be accustomed to such grandeur before she'd reached her first decade of life.  
  
'It's this way', Rindy said confidently, pointing towards a set of elevators past the main lobby. She started for the elevators, but Therese took her gently by the shoulders and reeled her back in.   
  
'Woah, hold on a minute. We can't just go up to the room. We don't have a key'.   
  
Rindy frowned. 'Oh'.  
  
'We're gonna have to go use that codename. Come on'.   
  
Therese steered her towards the front desk, heading for an older man with silvering hair, unoccupied at his computer. The two of them approached him, but he didn't look right away. The desk was so tall that Rindy could barely see over the top.   
  
'Excuse me', Therese announced their presence awkwardly, unsure of what her next move would be. Should she just drop the codename? Should she explain the situation and let them take care of it?   
  
The receptionist cast his steely blue eyes over the desk, regarding Therese with a disdainful glance up and down her person, taking in her clothes, over-sized grey t-shirt tucked into ripped baggy jeans, her hair, just brushed, falling to her chest in messy, natural waves. Maybe it was just her imagination, but nevertheless, she felt shrunken. _I don't belong here_ , she thought, something that had already crossed her mind multiple times since she entered the hotel and saw the other kinds of women who dwelled here, with designer shoes and perfectly manicured nails.   
  
'Yes, how can I help?' he asked.   
  
Therese mustered up all the confidence she could. 'I'm looking for Mrs Thor, is she here?'   
  
The man raised an eyebrow. 'What do you want with Mrs Thor?'   
  
'Well...' Therese looked down at Rindy. The receptionist followed her eyeline, only now noticing the girl at her side. He leaned over the desk a little.   
  
'You're Rindy, aren't you?' he recognised, relieved. 'She called the desk before and said you'd gone missing! Let me call her to come down and get you-'   
  
'It's okay, just let Therese take me upstairs', Rindy requested.   
  
He sighed. 'If that's what you wish. I'll call your mom and tell her you're on your way'.   
  
With that, he picked up the phone with one hand, and snapped his fingers at a bellboy waiting by the wall. The bellboy approached, the receptionist murmured something in his ear, and he turned to Therese and Rindy and smiled.   
  
'I'll take you up', he told them, and began to lead the two of them towards the elevators.   
  
Rindy followed, and Therese shuffled behind them awkwardly.   
  
'Why are you making me go upstairs with you?' Therese hissed to Rindy, out of earshot of the oblivious bellboy.   
  
'Well, my mom will be less angry if you're there', the little girl explained. 'She won't yell at me in front of a guest'.   
  
'So you're using me?'   
  
Rindy just smiled apologetically.   
  
_How did this happen?_ Therese thought as they piled into the elevator in silence. A day that had started out like any other, and then suddenly she was in The Plaza with some random kid, on her way to meet a celebrity? Things like this never happened, at least to her.   
  
After what felt like a lifetime, with Rindy remaining quiet beside her, no doubt feeling the fear of an impending outburst by her mother, they exited the elevator into a long corridor with seemingly few doors.   
  
'I can leave you here, if you want', the bellboy suggested.  
  
'Yeah, sure, thanks', Therese replied, waving him off. He stepped back into the elevator.  
  
'It's that door on the right', Rindy said. She led the way, and Therese followed nervously, still unsure of what she was actually doing, and whether she should just leave Rindy. But it was clear that, for some reason, this little girl was relying on her, trusting in her. And so she stayed. She stood behind her, like a guardian angel.  
  
Therese almost held her breath as Rindy knocked on the door, still unsure of who waited on the other side. But it was only a moment until the door swung open, panicked, and, for a moment, blue-grey eyes, the colour of the sky at dusk, met Therese's, before they flickered down to the little girl in front of her.   
  
'Rindy!' the woman cried.   
  
Rindy's mother was Carol Aird.   
  
  
  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, wow. I didn't expect so much attention on the first chapter, so thank you so much! Just to let you know, I'll be updating this every 1-2 weeks, because I'm writing as I go. Hope you enjoy this chapter!

Perched awkwardly on the far end of a velvety blue couch, Therese watched as Carol Aird paced up and down by the fireplace, arms folded. _Carol Aird_? She couldn't believe it. Even Therese, who took little interest in the world of celebrity, knew exactly who Carol Aird was. Everyone did. Everyone had seen at least one of her films. She was perhaps the greatest modern movie star.  
  
To Therese, she seemed impossibly elegant, even in her irritation. Tall, slender, in a crisp white shirt, sleeves rolled up to her elbows, exposing lightly tanned forearms, and blue skinny jeans, finishing with velvety black high-heeled boots that clicked against the wooden floorboards as she walked. Her hair fell just past her shoulders in soft golden waves. Therese just watched her, wordlessly, catching herself every time her mouth fell open in pure shock and disbelief that this adored woman, who every woman wanted to be and every man wanted to be with, had just invited her into her hotel room.  
  
And it could hardly be called a room. It was far too vast and luxurious for such a label. For starters, it was not one room, but many, though Therese hadn't left the reception room. To her right, a large window showed her a picture postcard view of Central Park. Opposite was a glass coffee table, two mustard yellow armchairs, and an ornate fireplace with an enormous mirror hanging above it. Behind her was a staircase that Therese assumed led to a couple bedrooms and bathrooms. It would have struck Therese as odd that a suite in a hotel, a temporary residence for vacationers, could be bigger than her entire apartment, but she already knew that her place was tiny. That was the only reason she could afford it.   
  
But now, she was offered a rare insight into a world so far from her own: the world of the rich and famous. Not that it was so obvious. Apart from the luxurious surroundings and the presence of one of the most famous women in the world, Therese was witness to a mother simply arguing with her daughter.   
  
'Well, congratulations, Rindy, you made your point', Carol sighed, still pacing up and down. 'You had me worried sick. You know how many people I had out there looking for you?'  
  
Rindy sat sulkily on the couch, next to Therese, hugging her knees to her chest. 'I said I was sorry!' she protested.  
  
'You could have been kidnapped!' Carol cried, ignoring her. 'This city is so big, Rindy, especially when you don't know where you're going. Anyone could have just snatched you!'  
  
'Well, they didn't', Rindy mumbled under her breath.  
  
'What?'  
  
Rindy sighed. 'I just needed to get out, okay? I know it was stupid. But I'm so tired of you and Dad fighting all the time. I don't wanna hear it anymore'.  
  
'And you think that's how we deal with our problems?' Carol turns to them. 'Running away?'  
  
'No'.  
  
'Then why did you do it?'  
  
Rindy looked down at her lap.  
  
'Well?' Carol demanded.  
  
'I don't know', Rindy said quietly.  
  
'You don't know? So you pull a stunt like that and you can't give me a reason for it?'  
  
Rindy still didn't respond. To Therese, she looked more vulnerable than ever. For a child who seemed wise beyond her years, much older than her true age, she was still so small.   
  
Carol must have seen it too, because she sighed, regretfully, as if she was breathing out her anger. She came to the couch, kneeling down in front of Rindy.  
  
'Look', she said, voice gentle. 'I know your father and I haven't exactly been seeing eye to eye lately. I know this is a hard time for you. It is for all of us. But how are we supposed to have a constructive conversation about that when all you do is storm off?'   
  
'You never listen', Rindy said, looking up at her mother with eyes full of hurt.   
  
'You don't talk to me', Carol replied simply.   
  
'I stopped trying', Rindy shot back. 'You're always busy doing something else'.  
  
'So you run away? I thought you were old enough to know that's not the way'.  
  
'Stop telling me that!' Rindy cried. 'You always say I'm old enough for this, old enough for that. I'm only eight! I'm just a kid!'  
  
'That's not an excuse', Carol retorted. 'I know you're young, but you also know you're different from other kids. I entrust you with a lot of responsibility, Rindy. I have to, because of our situation'.  
  
Rindy rolled her eyes. 'Well, I don't like our _situation_. I never asked for any of this. I never asked for a famous mom. Everything's always about you. And then I have to learn to keep secrets. You know, I didn't even tell Therese your name, not once'.  
  
Carol's eyes flickered to Therese, and then back to Rindy. 'And that's good, that you didn't', she assured her daughter. 'But you know why you have to keep secrets. Imagine if someone bad had found you, and they found out you were my daughter? They could have threatened me!'  
  
'You see?' Rindy cried. 'You're making it about you again!'  
  
'Well, I wouldn't have to if you'd just understand! Sometimes you don't take my position seriously enough, Rindy. You want the reporters and the paparazzi infiltrating our family? That's what will happen, if you insist on being so reckless. I didn't think I had to worry about you running away!'  
  
'Well, maybe you and Dad should watch me better instead of fighting all the time!' Rindy shouted.   
  
Carol looked taken aback, for a moment, before she sighed, looking down at the floor. Then she stood up, folding her arms once again.   
  
'Rindy, go to your room', she commanded.   
  
'But-'   
  
'Now, please. I need to talk to Therese'.   
  
Therese blinked. _What_? What did Carol want with her?   
  
Rindy just looked up at Therese, before silently sliding off the couch and making her way to the stairs, climbing them one by one with a light tap of her rubber soles against the marble.   
  
Now, with the two of them alone, Carol truly looked at Therese for the first time since she had arrived, like she was trying to read her. Therese remained frozen in position, pinned by her gaze, before Carol came to the sofa and perched on the arm, facing Therese, keeping one foot planted firmly in the floor and the other in the empty space that Rindy had just left.  
  
To Therese, Carol had lost her sheen already, and she wasn't too scared or intimidated to talk to her. Yes, she was famous, but she was also just a woman. She looked lost.   
  
'You must think I'm a terrible mother', Carol said, like she was disappointed in herself.  
  
'No, actually', Therese assured her. 'I know bad mothers, and I don't see you like that'.   
  
Carol looked at her questioningly, but the younger woman said nothing. If anyone should know what a terrible mother looked like, it was Therese. Her own mother had abandoned her as a newborn. Some of the foster mothers she'd had throughout the years were abusive and unpredictable. Okay, maybe Carol could have handled the situation better, but she wasn't about to tell her that. It was none of her business anyway.   
  
Carol sensed that Therese was reluctant to explain herself further, so she moved on. 'Do you live in New York?'   
  
'Yes', Therese replied. 'I have all my life. I was born in Queens'.   
  
'Do you still live there?'   
  
'No, I'm in Greenwich Village now. I work in my friend's bar there'.   
  
'You're a bartender?'   
  
Therese shrugged. 'At the moment. I want to be a photographer, but it's not working out so well right now'.   
  
Carol smiled knowingly. 'So you're an artist. The hardest thing to be' .   
  
'Yeah, I get that feeling', Therese chuckled.   
  
The older woman reached out suddenly, gently, and put a comforting hand on Therese's shoulder. Therese almost flinched at her touch, as if she'd gotten an electric shock. It took her breath away.   
  
'You'll get there', Carol assured her. 'I should know. It just takes time'. She gave Therese's shoulder a light squeeze.   
  
Therese smiled gratefully, suddenly aware of what a strange but beautiful situation this really was. Here was Carol, who should have turned her away at the door after thanking her for returning her daughter. But instead, she had invited her in without a second thought, and she was so kind.   
  
'Thanks'.   
  
Carol withdrew her hand. 'So what were you doing in Central Park today?' she asked.   
  
'Oh, just enjoying the weather. I like to go there with a book. That's what helped me get Rindy talking. She looked alone, and I kinda guessed something was wrong. She was looking at my book, trying to see what it was. I asked if she liked to read too'.  
  
'How did you know she needed help?' Carol asked. 'How did you know what to do?'  
  
'I was a bit of a runaway kid in my time', Therese chuckled. 'I only did what other people used to do for me'.  
  
Carol shook her head in disbelief. 'Thank God you did'. She looked at Therese earnestly. 'I'm so grateful you got her back to me, darling. Any old weirdo could have picked her up out there'.  
  
'Oh, I am a weirdo', Therese joked. 'I'm just one of the good ones'.  
  
Carol laughed then. It was a lovely sound. Therese didn't expect to be so affected by it, but she was. A comforting warmth settled in the pit of her stomach. Therese laughed too.  
  
'Well', Carol said, 'if it was anyone, I'm glad it was you. You're great with Rindy, clearly. She's usually so shy around new people'. Her smile faltered. 'That's probably my fault. I have to teach her to be so careful. One slip-up and our whole lives are splashed over the tabloids a day later'.  
  
Therese smiled sympathetically. 'It must be hard. I don't think you have to worry about her too much, though. She _is_ careful. I had no idea you were her mom'.  
  
'Is that why you were acting so strange at first?' Carol teased.  
  
'Oh, come on', Therese rolled her eyes. 'You must be used to people being starstruck around you. You're the first celebrity I've ever met, you know'.  
  
'What, do you want an autograph?' Carol shot back.  
  
Therese laughed. 'I'm good, thanks. I'm sure I'll remember this bizarre day without having your name written on a bit of paper'.  
  
Carol paused for a moment, still smiling, and propped an elbow up on her knee, resting her head in her hand. She was watching Therese again, and Therese was watching her back. Her lovely face, free of all make-up except for a delicate flick of mascara. The way her golden waves of hair framed her face, like the ornate golden swirls framed the mirror above the fireplace. Those light eyes that seemed to hold worlds in them, worlds of knowledge and wisdom and sadness. Therese was mesmerised.  
  
Carol broke the quiet first. 'Therese, I'm having a party here on Friday night, and I'd really like it if you came'. She said it almost abruptly, as if she had to say it quickly before she wouldn't say it all.   
  
Therese blinked. 'Oh, that's nice, but I don't think I can'.  
  
Carol frowned. 'You're busy?'   
  
'Well, I'm working, but I could get out of it. I just... I wouldn't feel right imposing on you like that'.   
  
'You wouldn't be imposing, I want you there'.   
  
Therese looked down. 'I'm not exactly familiar with places like this, Carol. Or people like you. I think I'd be uncomfortable'.  
  
Carol paused for a moment, like she was thinking it over.   
  
'What if I hired you?' she said suddenly.   
  
'What?'   
  
'You're a photographer, aren't you? What if I hire you as the party photographer?'   
  
'It must be some party if you need a photographer', Therese remarked.   
  
'It will be. I'm working on a new film, that's why I'm here in New York. This is the first gathering for the cast and crew outside of pre-production. I like to keep a kind of photo diary, mostly for myself, but also to give to my collaborators as a gift at the end of the project'.   
  
'That's nice'.   
  
'And a few of my friends from the city will be there too, of course'. Carol looked at her hopefully. 'Come on, I'll pay you well. If it's work then you can't turn me down, right?'  
  
Therese was a little taken aback by the way Carol seemed so intent on her attendance. She didn't want to go, not to a rich people party at a Plaza penthouse, but she could barely remember the last time she'd taken a paid photography job, and this one would surely prove to be very interesting indeed.   
  
It was more than just the job offer, though. Therese knew that, deep down. Carol wanted her there. And the thought of not seeing Carol again... Therese hadn't even considered it until now, sensing that her time here might be nearing it's end. But, once the thought had crossed her mind, out of nowhere, she felt a heaviness descend on her heart. It was strange, but undeniable.   
  
Carol wanted her there, and she wanted to be there for Carol. She wanted to be _with_ Carol, at least one more time.   
  
Therese nodded. 'Okay'.   
  
A small smile crept across Carol's face as she watched Therese.   
  
'What a strange girl you are', she observed.   
  
'Why?'   
  
Carol looked away, as though she was nervous. 'Flung out of space'.

* * *

  
  
Dannie took a couple of cold bottles of Corona from out of the fridge behind the bar, cracked them open, and slid one across to Therese, who was wiping down the tables along the opposite wall. She nodded at him in thanks, and took a swig of the beer with one hand as the other danced across a tabletop, damp cloth in hand.  
  
'So what else did she say?' Dannie probed.  
  
Therese shrugged. 'Not much. She said she'd put my name on the list, and she asked me for my last name, and I said it was Belivet, and she said 'What kind of a name is Belivet?' and I said it was Czech, and then I quickly changed the subject before she asked me about my family. So, that was it'.  
  
'And then you left?'  
  
'Well, yeah. I'd said I'd take the job, she had my name. It was all sorted'.  
  
Dannie shook his head. 'I just can't believe you turned her down'.  
  
'Turned who down?' Phil asked, emerging from the basement with a keg of beer in his arms. He dumped it down behind the bar.  
  
'Carol Aird', Dannie replied, taking another Corona out of the fridge and handing it to his brother.   
  
'Oh, yeah, totally', Phil agreed.  
  
Of course, the two of them knew the basics already. Dannie and Phil were Therese's best friends, and she was desperate to tell them about her whirlwind of an afternoon with Carol and her daughter. Besides, the brothers owned McElroy's, the bar she worked at, and she needed to ask for Friday night off before anyone else could. At first, they thought it was a joke, when Therese came dashing in to start her shift at six o'clock and breathlessly recounted a very brief summary of what had happened earlier that day. Therese, invited to Carol Aird's party at The Plaza? But, as they realised it was true, the bar was already filling up with people, and by then it was too late to talk. As the night wore on, they tried to catch Therese during whatever moment she had free in between jobs, and the story slowly unfolded. Now, finally, it was two o'clock in the morning and the were closing up, free to talk, to uncover anything they had missed.  
  
Therese sighed. 'Like I already said, I turned her down 'cause I don't wanna get involved with some celebrity circle. That's why I'm going as an employee and not a guest. I was just honest with Carol, I said I think I'd feel uncomfortable hanging out in The Plaza with a bunch of rich people I've never met'.  
  
Dannie rolled his eyes. 'But it's _Carol Aird_ , Therese. Couldn't you just suck it up for one night?'  
  
Phil nodded in agreement. 'When Carol Aird invites you to a party, you go'.  
  
'It's easy for you guys to say, you're so confident', Therese protested. 'You'd fit right in. I'm not like that'.  
  
'But you said she was nice to you', Phil pointed out.  
  
'She was'. Therese smiled at the thought.  
  
'See? It won't be so bad'.  
  
'I _am_ excited to see her again', she admitted.  
  
'I bet you are'.  
  
'She's so hot, Tee', Dannie swooned.  
  
'Yeah, she is', Therese agreed, only half-heartedly. Sure, Carol was hot. Everyone thought so. But, now Therese had met her, seen her up close, she knew she was more than that. She was beautiful, she was classic. She was timeless. Hot didn't seem to cover it.  
  
Therese pictured Carol, smiling down at her from the arm of the couch, the image imprinted on her mind. She remembered her touch, the way she had felt a shock as Carol's hand squeezed her shoulder. She thought of her laugh, and the warmth she felt inside, as if she was hearing a familiar sound, like she had known her many years. And she felt a thrill of excitement at the knowledge that, on Friday, she would feel all of those things again.  
  



	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've read Electric Blue, you know my Genevieve. I thought it was worth pointing her out as she's the only canon character here not based on the film depiction. She's partly based on the flirtatious Londoner from the novel, and partly on a kind of femme fatale character I'd thought of before and thought I could model Genevieve on. Fun fact - her look is inspired by Eurus Holmes from BBC Sherlock. I was watching the show around the first time I wrote Genevieve, and her control and elegance really captured my imagination. As for Abby, she's the same Abby we know and love!  
> I'm also loving the Notting Hill appreciation, but I won't lie, this story doesn't really follow that plot too closely. It's just an inspiration.   
> Thanks for reading, and all the comments and kudos. It means a lot. For real.

Therese's second entrance to The Plaza was even less confident than the first. She didn't have Rindy by her side, to guide her through this castle of gold and marble. She knew now what mystery lurked behind the door on the penthouse level, but this time it was different. It was an occasion.  
  
She was wearing her smartest clothes: a plain white shirt, short sleeved, with a delicate white lace pattern around the collar, tucked into light grey tailored trousers, with simple black high-heeled sandals. Her camera bag was slung over one shoulder, her very own designer handbag. She was satisfied with the look, having mulled it over in her head for the past couple of days. It said professional, but it didn't scream for attention.  
  
She awkwardly announced her arrival at the front desk, and the receptionist gave her a message from Carol.  
  
'Mrs Thor says that if she doesn't get the chance to see you right away, you should make yourself comfortable', he informed her. 'The kitchen area is an open bar for the evening, she says you should help yourself to drinks, and take pictures of anything and everything'.  
  
A bellboy escorted her to floor 20, but this time, as she stepped out of the elevator, she was met with a spillage of people in the corridor, dotted around in smaller groups by the open door of Carol's suite. Music drifted from inside, but it was just a dull thumping, Therese couldn't make out any real sounds or lyrics. _How big is this party_? she thought. _How many people can you fit inside a suite_? Clearly not enough, evidenced by the corridor people, some leaning lazily against the wall, others sat cross-legged on the floor, drinks in hand.  
  
Therese entered the suite. Sure enough, the place was packed with people, probably about thirty in the lounge area alone. She didn't even consider how many people might be upstairs, or in the kitchen. And it was loud. It was only nine o'clock, yet the party seemed to be in full swing. Therese panicked for a moment, thinking that she might have arrived late, but Carol had definitely told her nine. She saw the logic in it though. What better time to photograph people than the middle of the party? Already comfortable, a little tipsy, less poised and perfect. More real.  
  
Therese didn't exactly have a plan of action, except to avoid the bar for a while. This wasn't a real job, not really, but she did want to maintain at least some image of professionalism. Besides, she was glad she'd come here with some kind of purpose. To arrive as a guest without knowing anyone, without anyone to look for or go have a drink with, was her idea of hell. With her camera held up to her face, she wasn't alone, or sad-looking, or out of place. She belonged.   
  
So that's what she did, at first. She held up her camera. She hid behind it. Party guests noticed her, saw the bright white of the flash or heard the click of the shutter, and quickly jumped into position in front of the camera, either alone or as a group, hurriedly assembling, some standing tall over the heads of others, some kneeling down to the floor. Therese felt like a nightclub photographer. She'd never worked as one, but she'd certainly been in front of the camera, arms wrapped around Dannie or another one of their friends, a dreamy, distant look in her eyes. _Is this what all showbiz parties are like_? Therese thought as she drifted through the various groups of people.   
  
Eventually, she came upon the velvet blue couch. It loomed like an island of safety in a wide ocean of strangers. And a familiar face was a welcome sight. _Rindy_.   
  
She sat alone on the couch, seeming smaller than ever as she looked timidly around her, as if she was searching for someone. She wore a navy chiffon dress, with her dark blonde waves tied half-up with a red ribbon. She reminded Therese of Alice in Alice in Wonderland. Therese went over, hopping up onto the arm of the couch, next to her.   
  
'Hey, Rindy'.   
  
The little girl's face lit up. 'Therese, you came!'   
  
'Of course I did, I had to come see you again!' Therese smiled, squeezing her shoulder.   
  
Rindy giggled. 'I know you came here to see my mom, you don't have to lie'.  
  
'I'm not lying! So what's up, are you here on your own?'   
  
'Mom went to find Jeanette', Rindy explained. 'And then Jeanette is gonna take me to my grandma's house'.   
  
Therese's smile fell. 'You're leaving?'   
  
Rindy nodded. 'I'm tired. I've been here like two hours'.   
  
'Well, that's a shame, I just got here 20 minutes ago'.  
  
'Are you taking pictures?'  
  
'Yeah, do you want one?'  
  
Rindy nodded eagerly.  
  
Therese smiled, raising her camera. She knew she had the perfect angle already, with Rindy beaming up at her adorably from the couch. _Snap_.   
  
'Wow, so pretty!' Therese complimented.   
  
'Thanks!'   
  
'You're like a model, Rindy!' came an unfamiliar voice.   
  
Therese looked up to find a blonde stranger observing the two of them. She was older, probably 20 years her senior, with her light hair tied up in an elegant braid and a heavy silver necklace hanging on her neck like a chain.   
  
'Hi, Jeanette', Rindy greeted her with disinterest.   
  
'Are you all set?' Jeanette asked her.   
  
Rindy nodded in response.  
  
Then, Jeanette turned to Therese, as if she had just noticed her.   
  
'Hello', she said politely, extending her hand. 'I don't think we've met'.  
  
'No, we haven't', Therese confirmed, shaking Jeanette's hand. 'I'm Therese'.   
  
'How do you know Carol?' Jeanette asked, like she was confused at Therese's presence.   
  
Therese shifted uncomfortably. 'Um-'   
  
'She's a photographer', Rindy interrupted quickly.   
  
Therese shot the little girl a look, but her face remained neutral, with only the faintest glint of warning in her eyes.   
  
It briefly crossed Therese's mind that Rindy, at only eight years old, was already so adept at keeping information hidden, in communicating in signs and secrets. Even from supposed friends. Well, Therese wouldn't tell. Jeanette wasn't aware of the situation that had brought Therese and Rindy together just a few days ago, and it was clear the little girl intended to keep it that way.   
  
'Yes, Carol hired me for the party', Therese explained.   
  
'Oh, how wonderful', Jeanette commented joylessly. 'Well, we must be going. I'm taking Rindy to her father's parents house'.  
  
'Oh, yeah, of course, don't let me stop you'.   
  
'Come along, Rindy', Jeanette clapped her hands. It occurred to Therese that this woman had a sort of robotic quality about her, a false façade of elegance and decorum that didn't quite come to be realised in her words. If Stepford was a real town, then surely Jeanette was a former resident.   
  
Rindy got up, and as Therese did too, the little girl wrapped her small arms around the tops of Therese's legs and hugged her, her head leaning against Therese's stomach.   
  
'Bye, Therese', Rindy said. 'Will I see you again?'   
  
Therese ruffled her hair. 'I hope so, kid'.   
  
Rindy released her, smiling up at her one last time before Jeanette but a hand on her upper back and guided her through the crowd. Therese watched her go, feeling she was losing her only friend already. _Where is Carol_? she wondered.  
  
'Therese! Hey, Therese!'   
  
She whipped around, searching for the woman who called her name. It wasn't Carol. She would recognise Carol's voice anywhere.   
  
After a moment, two women came bounding towards her excitedly. She didn't recognise either of them. The first had straight, shoulder length hair, mousy brown in colour, and wore a white cotton summer dress, with embroidered flowers of every colour growing up from the hem at her calves. She had a kind face and warm brown eyes, with full lips painted red and a bright, brilliant smile that made Therese feel instantly comfortable. The other woman was definitely more intimidating. She had a cold kind of beauty, with long black hair that tumbled in waves over her shoulders and half way down her back, and eyes so blue and piercing that Therese felt almost hypnotised by them. She was dressed in a dark grey pantsuit, over-sized on her small frame, with her blazer sleeves rolled up to the elbows, and a low-cut cream coloured tank top beneath. Layered silver necklaces decorated her neck. They both oozed wealth and success, but she didn't recognise them from any film she'd seen. Were they actresses? Producers, maybe? Were they the wives of the director or writers or leading actors? More importantly, how did they know her name?   
  
'Hello', she said politely.  
  
'We thought it was you!' the brunette said excitedly.   
  
The dark-haired woman rolled her eyes. 'Well, of course it's her, she's holding a camera', she deadpanned in an eloquent, upper-class English accent.   
  
The brunette extended her hand to Therese. 'I'm Abby Gerhard, this is Genevieve Cantrell'.   
  
'Hi', Therese gave them a tight smile, shaking Abby's hand with a. stiff formality, as though she had arrived for a job interview.   
  
She shook Genevieve's hand next. 'Call me Gen', the dark-haired woman smiled, eyes twinkling.   
  
'We heard all about Rindy's little adventure', Abby explained. 'Carol told us you'd be here tonight, we thought we'd come and see Rindy's guardian angel for ourselves!'   
  
Therese understood that these women must be close friends of Carol if they knew about the situation. Suddenly the name Abby held more familiarity.   
  
'You're the Aunt Abby Rindy mentioned', Therese realised aloud. 'Are you Carol's sister?'   
  
'Oh, no, we're old friends. Rindy just calls me her aunt'.  
  
Therese just nodded in understanding. No one said anything, and an awkward silence ensued. The two women's eyes kept drifting up and down Therese's body, up into her hair, to the camera that hung against her chest. They didn't even bother trying to hide it. They were sizing her up.

'Do you work in the movie business?' Therese asked abruptly, deliberately interrupting their assessment of her.  
  
Gen shook her head. 'I own an art gallery, and Abby works as Carol's personal assistant. That is, she gets paid to drink and gossip'.   
  
Abby shot Gen an icy glare, then turned back to Therese. 'We actually don't know any of these people', she confessed.   
  
Therese smiled, then, in spite of herself, undeniably relieved. 'I'm glad I'm not the only one', she said, suddenly feeling a sense of solidarity with these two strangers.  
  
Abby reached out and linked her arm through hers. 'Come on, let's go get a drink!'  
  
'Um, okay', Therese agreed.  
  
Gen linked Therese's other arm, and suddenly she was being swept along through the crowd towards the kitchen. She felt like the new kid in school, with two popular girls guiding her through the unfamiliar environment.  
  
'So how long have you lived in New York?' Abby asked.  
  
'Forever', Therese replied. 'I was born here'.  
  
'Me too!' Abby exclaimed. 'I've never lived anywhere else, not even for a little while'.  
  
'Me neither. The furthest I ever moved was from Queens to Greenwich Village'.  
  
'My gallery is in Greenwich Village', Gen chipped in. 'Do you still live there?'  
  
Therese nodded. 'I moved so I was within walking distance of my friends' bar. That's where I work'.  
  
'I'll come find you some time', Gen winked at her.  
  
 _Is she flirting with me_? Therese quickly tried to find something quick-witted to respond with, but the words died in the back of her throat. She cursed herself for not going to drink something as soon as she arrived, at least then she'd have a little buzz to help her along. Sometimes shyness was such a chore.  
  
Abby continued swiftly, ignoring Genevieve. Therese sensed that her flirting with strangers was nothing new to Abby. 

'You know, we didn't think you'd show up'.   
  
Therese frowned. 'That's what Rindy said. Why does everyone think that?'   
  
'Because Carol invited you, and you said no', Abby said, shrugging.   
  
'That was nothing personal against Carol', Therese insisted.   
  
Gen smirked. 'Lucky you're a photographer, then, or she wouldn't have an excuse to have you here at all'.   
  
'But why would Carol want me here?' Therese questioned. 'I mean, I figured she just asked me because she wanted to thank me for helping Rindy'. _That, or she felt sorry for me_ , she thought, too embarrassed to say it aloud.   
  
'She finds you intriguing', Gen said, as if it was obvious. 'I mean, she's not wrong. You're gorgeous. It's about time we had some new meat around here'.   
  
'Genevieve!' Abby scolded.   
  
They had reached the kitchen, where the counters on either side were littered with open wine bottles, expensive vodkas, flavoured gins and a line of already-filled champagne flutes. Two guys around Therese's age, dressed in smart shirts and black trousers, were dashing from one side to the other, preparing drinks for the guests.   
  
Therese turned to Gen, then to Abby. 'Are you two supposed to be telling me this?'   
  
'No', they said in unison.   
  
'. . . Right'.   
  
Abby waved a hand dismissively. 'Oh, honey, stop worrying'.   
  
'I'll get drinks', Gen said. 'You need to relax a little'. She gave Therese's arm a squeeze as she unlinked it from her own, and disappeared through the gap between two gatherings of people, vanishing among a sea of heads. _I do need to relax_ , Therese thought. But, at the same time, the conversation had made her feel like an imposter eavesdropping on the private business of someone else. She was the main focus of this story, apparently, yet it was lost on her.   
  
_Carol finds me intriguing. Carol wants to see me again._ She repeated these two phrases to herself in her head, like a mantra, hoping somehow she would believe it. Maybe that _was_ the whole truth. Abby and Genevieve seemed convinced. But the idea still baffled her. Why would someone like Carol want to hang out with someone like her?   
  
'So, what's working in a bar like?' Abby asked after a moment, her arm still linked through Therese's, as if the younger woman might wander off into the crowd if she let go of her.   
  
Therese shrugged. 'It's fun, most of the time. The people who come in are cool. And I get to work with my best friends every day, which is great. They're like my siblings'.  
  
'I never worked as a bartender', the older woman mused. 'I always thought I'd like it. Meeting new people, getting drinks bought for you'.

'Oh, I don't know about that', Therese chuckled. 'It's not so glamorous'.

'More glamorous than waitressing? I did that, for a bit'.

'Hmm, maybe. It depends on the people, I think'.

'Yeah, I guess so. Oh, look, here comes Gen!'

Therese turned to see Genevieve returning with a circular tray of nine shot glasses in three neat rows of three. The glasses were filled with a threatening amber liquid. _Oh no._  
  
She raised an eyebrow. 'Is that tequila?'   
  
'Ooh, our favourite', Abby clapped her hands with glee.   
  
'Is this a test?' Therese asked stupidly.   
  
Gen's smile faltered. She looked at Abby. 'Well, we've really done it now, Abby, she thinks we're insane'.   
  
Abby laughed. 'We're not testing you', she assured Therese. 'You don't have to pass any test'   
  
'You're here because you're wanted', Gen promised. 'Now will you have a little fun? You're allowed to have fun, you know'.   
  
Therese stared at the three tequila shots with narrowed eyes, like she was facing an enemy. _Fuck it_ , she thought.   
  
She brushed her hair behind her ears. 'Okay, I'm in'.  
  
'Yes!' Abby poked her playfully in the ribs. 'I knew you'd loosen up eventually'.   
  
Gen held out the tray in between the three of them, and each woman picked up a shot glass. Abby raised hers into the air, and the others followed.  
  
'To Mexico, for giving us this wonderful tequila', she toasted. 'Let's go!'  
  
The three of them downed the shot, dropped the empty glass back onto the tray, and picked up the next. Therese screwed up her face as the liquid burned in her throat. As Abby and Gen drank their last shot without thinking twice, she eyed up the one remaining full glass, feeling ill at the sight of it. She knew she couldn't give up now, though. Maybe it was the years of competitive drinking games she'd played with the guys from the bar, but she wouldn't be beaten. She reached out and downed the last shot, forcing herself to swallow before she discarded the empty glass on the tray.  
  
'Whew', Gen exhaled with a whistle.  
  
'Better now?' Abby smiled expectantly at Therese.   
  
The younger woman nodded. She grasped at the camera hanging around her next and held it up to Abby and Gen.   
  
'Smile!' she instructed them.   
  
Abby stepped over so she was next to Gen, who offered up the tray of empty shot glasses as evidence of what had just happened. _Snap_. Therese laughed as she let the camera drop back to her chest.   
  
'Are my friends harassing you?' came a low voice from behind her.   
  
Abby and Genevieve's eyes flickered over the top of Therese's head. She felt a gentle hand on her shoulder.   
  
_Carol._


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Hope everyone is staying safe and well.  
> So I'm realising what this story is as I'm writing it, and how different it is to my last one. While the characterisations mostly remain the same, the themes are very different. And it's less angsty!  
> Also, like in Electric Blue, the supporting characters will play a reallyyy big part, because to me friendships are just as important as romantic relationships in life. I just thought I'd give you a heads-up about that.  
> This chapter's all Belivaird though. Hope you enjoy it!

_You're hard on yourself,_

  
_Well you can't always be right_

  
  
Finally, she was here.  
  
All the confusion and craziness she'd just felt with Abby and Genevieve melted away with just one glance at Carol. Elation took its place.  
  
Carol looked amazing, like she always did, in every film, every magazine, but now she was right here in the room, in front of Therese, living and breathing. It still felt surreal. She wore a fitted black jumpsuit with a heart-shaped neckline. It tucked in at her waist, and stopped a little way above the ankle, showing off her lithe frame. Her lips and nails were painted red, matching the soles of her black patent Louboutin stilettos, which made her taller than ever. Therese gazed up at her, feeling as though she was graced by the presence of a real life goddess.  
  
'Hi'.  
  
'Hi, yourself', Carol said, looking her up and down. 'I was worried you wouldn't be here'.  
  
'Well, _all_ of you are wrong', Therese said, shooting an accusatory look at Abby and Gen.  
  
Carol smiled. 'I'm glad. Are you having fun?'  
  
'I am now', Therese responded confidently. Was the alcohol hitting her already?  
  
'Good. There's something I want to show you, will you come with me?'  
  
Therese heart leapt. 'Of course', she nodded.  
  
Carol tilted her head to the side, gesturing for the younger woman to follow her. She pointed at Abby and Gen before they left.  
  
'Are you two behaving?' she asked her friends.  
  
'No', they replied in unison.  
  
Carol shot them one last warning glance before she turned around, heading back the way she had come, checking every other moment that Therese was still behind her.  
  
The noise of the party seemed to grow louder for Therese as she followed, the sound of the music seemed to vibrate through the floor. The edges of her vision were beginning to blur, like a light cloud of fog had settled in the room. Maybe later she'd question her willingness to down three shots in 20 seconds, but for now, she was grateful for the liquid courage. Especially considering she was probably about to be alone with Carol.  
  
They left the crowd behind in the kitchen and lounge as they approached a door down the hall. Therese didn't know where it led to. There was a window covering the top half, but it was hidden by a closed venetian blind. Carol produced a key out of her pocket, and twisted it in the lock. Then she stepped back as she opened the door.  
  
'After you', she said.  
  
Therese obeyed.  
  
The doorway opened out onto a large terrace. There were a collection of chairs and sun loungers, with a little metal coffee table, and, beyond the planters that lined the half-walls, the most incredible view of a New York summer night. Buildings of silvery glass and beige brick stretched out before them at different levels, some just poking above eye level, others towering into the darkening sky. The coolness and the half-light of dusk enveloped her, and the noise of the city below was nothing more than a low thrum.  
  
'Wow', Therese breathed.  
  
'It's oddly peaceful, isn't it?' Carol commented, stepping out behind her and closing the door. 'I didn't want to let people come out here. I didn't want to have nowhere to go'.  
  
Therese nodded in understanding. 'Sometimes you need a little quiet at a party'.  
  
Carol stood beside her now. There was maybe a metre between them, but Therese felt so close to her, could feel that electrical current that seemed to radiate from her.  
  
Therese's whole body felt hot suddenly, and the dizziness in her head intensified a little more. _God damn it._  
  
'Are you alright?' Carol eyed her with concern.  
  
Therese raised a hand to her burning forehead. 'I just drank three shots of tequila with Abby and Genevieve', she confessed.  
  
Carol laughed. 'That's their ritual. Drinking with people they've never met before is a favourite pastime for them'.  
  
'Huh'.  
  
'Are you sure you're alright?' Carol frowned. 'Do you want me to get you some water of something?'  
  
Therese shook her head. 'No, no, I'm fine. I just . . . I don't know. I don't want to embarrass myself in front of you'.  
  
'Are you an embarrassing drunk?' Carol asked.  
  
'Yes', Therese replied without hesitation.  
  
Carol smirked. 'Why?'  
  
'I get . . .' Therese searched for the right word. 'Bolder'  
  
'Doesn't everyone?'  
  
'Yeah, but I think it's more obvious 'cause it's me. I'm shy, normally'.  
  
'I used to be shy', Carol remembered. 'I think acting knocked most of it out of me'.  
  
'Then you know what it's like. Sometimes I find it hard to be around new people. Coming here is like, hugely out of my comfort zone'. Therese sighed. 'I just don't want you to think I'm a total idiot'.  
  
'Why would I think you're an idiot?'  
  
'Because I'm just a broke bartender from Queens and you're . . . well, you're you'.  
  
Carol rolled her eyes. 'I get it, you have imposter syndrome. I wish you wouldn't'.  
  
'I just don't know why you asked me here, Carol', Therese admitted.  
  
Carol looked at her, her gaze pinning Therese like a bullet to the chest. 'Because I wanted to see you again'.  
  
Therese's breath hitched. She almost responded. She almost asked why. But she didn't have to, she knew that. There was something in Carol's face, in her voice, that told her she really meant it.  
  
She reached for the camera dangling against her chest, running her fingers over it's smooth curves, anything to occupy her for a moment while she let Carol's words sink in, anything to stop her standing there stupidly as a slow smile spread across her face. Then, she had an idea.  
  
'Will you go over there, by the wall?' she asked Carol, tilting her head in the direction of the terrace's edge. 'I want to take your picture'.  
  
There was a pause, until Carol agreed. She walked slowly over to the half-wall, next to the planter, and turned around to face Therese, making the city her backdrop. She leaned back against the intricate iron railing, resting her elbows on the cool metal, and looked straight into the camera, half-smiling. _Snap_. She hadn't even had to try, she already looked like a supermodel in that first, lazy pose. She was effortless. _Snap_.  
  
Carol looked down coyly at the floor. _Snap_. Then her eyes, the mid-point between blue and grey, the same colour as the sky above them, flickered back to the camera, head still tilted towards the ground, in a seductive gaze, like the look that made Lauren Bacall famous in the 1940s. She had all that essence of old Hollywood glamour about her, yet she was still a modern woman. She could be all of those things at once. _Snap_.  
  
Then she turned around, resting one knee on the edge of the planter. It looked as through flowers were growing from her side. She draped her lithe body over the iron railing, looking out across the view. _Snap_.  
  
Therese hadn't even had to guide her. Carol just knew what to do. She expected that Carol was simply used to having her picture taken, but still, Therese felt as though she'd just captured the best photographs ever taken of Carol Aird.  
  
'How are they?' Carol asked.  
  
'They're masterpieces', Therese said breathlessly. 'You're a masterpiece'.  
  
Carol smiled. 'Can I see?'  
  
Therese handed over the camera wordlessly, still in awe of what she had just witnessed. Carol took the camera carefully from her hands, and Therese watched her as she scrolled through the pictures.  
  
'You're talented', she said, still looking down at the small screen.   
  
'Thanks', Therese said shyly.  
  
Then Carol looked up suddenly, and raised the camera to her own face. 'Smile!'  
  
Therese froze. 'What are you doing?'  
  
'It's your turn'. She chuckled. 'You don't have to look so panicked'.  
  
'I hate being in front of the camera', Therese confessed.  
  
'Why? You're beautiful'.  
  
Therese couldn't help but smile then. Her lips turned upwards at the corners, and she looked down to hide the fact that she was blushing. _Snap_.  
  
Carol handed the camera back to her.  
  
Therese raised an eyebrow. 'You know all the tricks, don't you?'  
  
'No', Carol said. 'It's a great picture, though'.  
  
Therese put the strap around her neck without checking the camera, letting it hang against her chest again, her favourite necklace. She went to sit down on one of the chairs, propping her feet up on the coffee table.  
  
Carol turned back to the edge of the terrace, looking out at the skyline, another window turning golden every minute as a light turned on in someone's home or office. It was so dark now.  
  
'I don't think I'll ever take this city for granted', she said absentmindedly. 'But it changes so often. Every time I come back here, it feels different in another way. When I think about growing up here... well, it feels like another world'.  
  
Therese blinked. 'You're from New York?'  
  
Carol turned to look at her. 'Are you surprised?'  
  
'Yes. I don't know why'.  
  
Carol smirked. 'You thought I was from Los Angeles, didn't you?'  
  
Therese shrugged. 'I guess so. Do people always think that?'  
  
'Most of the time. It's kind of a stereotype that LA kids grow up to be actors, but it's true. And so everyone just assumes that I'm from there. Honestly, I think more come from New York'.  
  
'Yeah, I suppose you're right. Which part of the city did you grow up in?'  
  
'Manhattan. The Upper East Side'.  
  
'Do your parents still live there?'  
  
Carol shifted uncomfortably. 'No, they moved to New Jersey a long time ago. I don't really speak to them anymore'.  
  
'I'm sorry', Therese smiled sympathetically.  
  
'Don't be'. Carol perched on the edge of one of the sun loungers by the half-wall. 'One of the reasons I left New York was so I could get away from them. I went to Hollywood because I wanted to act and they thought I should do something more sensible like stay in the city and marry a lawyer or a banker or something. Leaving was the only way I could do my own thing. But when they moved to New Jersey, I had nothing keeping me away from New York anymore. Still, I never came back'.  
  
'Do you regret leaving?' Therese asked, resting her head in her hand, leaning forward, like a child eagerly listening to a bedtime story.  
  
'In some ways', Carol admitted. 'I had to go to LA to start my career, but it's never been home for me. New York will always be home. Do you feel the same way?'  
  
Therese sighed. 'Honestly, I don't know anymore'.  
  
'But you grew up here, didn't you?'  
  
'Yeah. So maybe I'll always feel an attachment. But I get what you mean when you say the city is always changing'. She shrugged. 'Sometimes I feel like there's nothing left for me here'.  
  
'Would you leave?'  
  
Therese nodded. 'I've been thinking about it', she confessed.  
  
'Where would you go?'  
  
'I don't know. It's all just a big what-if at the moment. I don't know if I really could leave. New York is the only home I've ever known. And I know there's nowhere else like it'.  
  
Carol looked at her, head titled to one side, like she was trying to read her. 'But you're not happy here?'  
  
Therese shook her head. 'It's not that. It just feels like I've hit a dead end. I work so many shifts at the bar that I feel like I don't have any time or effort left to put into making a career out of photography. I hang out with the same people all the time. People I love, of course, but it can feel a little insular sometimes. You're the first interesting person I've met in a while'. She looked at Carol, smiling. 'And you really _are_ interesting'.  
  
Carol smiled too. 'I feel the same about you', she confessed. Then her face fell, and she looked away. 'Most people only want to hang out with me because I'm famous. I feel like I'm stuck in the same circle of celebrities and socialites. I've learned to be so careful around new people because they usually want something from me'.  
  
Therese frowned. 'What about me?'  
  
'I know you're not like that', Carol replied simply.  
  
'How?' Therese pressed.  
  
'I just know'.  
  
Carol looked at her, and for the first time Therese truly saw the depth of that sadness in her eyes, the shine of water that had not yet formed tears. She was holding back. And yet, she wasn't. She was open, and honest, and Therese sensed that this was new to her. She saw it in the way that she looked at the floor more than she looked at her, and in the way she shifted slightly in her seat, like she was uncomfortable.  
  
'It's really hard for you to trust people, isn't it?'  
  
Carol smiled sadly. 'It can be very lonely'.  
  
'But you have your family', Therese pointed out. 'Rindy. And your husband'.  
  
'We're getting divorced, Therese', the older woman said abruptly.  
  
Therese blinked. 'What?'  
  
'It's almost final. Very few people know'.  
  
Therese understood, then, the situation that brought her there in the first place. She understood what Carol's daughter was really dealing with. Her heart sank.  
  
'That's why Rindy ran away, isn't it?'  
  
Carol nodded. 'The legal proceedings are ongoing. Harge and I are fighting all the time. It's hell for me, it's hell for Rindy. Harge wants full custody of her'.  
  
Therese frowned. 'He does? Why?'  
  
'He wants to keep her in New York, so she can settle down with one permanent home. She can have a normal life'.  
  
'Is that what you want for her? A normal life?'  
  
'Of course. I just don't think it's possible. Not with me as her mother'. Carol sighed. 'You heard her say it yourself. She never asked for any of this'.  
  
'But you're her mom. She needs you'.   
  
Carol shrugged. 'Harge doesn't seem to think so. He's just trying to convince me so I won't put up a fight in court, trying to threaten me, but sometimes I feel like he's right'.  
  
'Carol, he's _not_ right', Therese protested. 'Maybe Rindy doesn't have a normal life, but she has two parents who love her, who want to be with her. Surely that's the most important thing'.  
  
'Even if it means constantly dragging her back and forth across the country?'  
  
Therese knew she wasn't exactly in a position to give this kind of advice. But she knew that the parents that truly loved their children should never be taken for granted. She'd seen too many kids like herself, whose hearts were broken and their sense of trust forever damaged before they were even old enough to walk.  
  
She nodded in response. 'Yes. I think so'.  
  
After a moment of silence, Carol shook her head, as if she was snapping herself out of something. 'I'm sorry. I don't mean to be so depressing'.  
  
'That's okay, I have a depressing life too', Therese joked, trying to lighten the mood.  
  
Carol smiled. 'Maybe you could tell me more about it some time'.  
  
'Maybe I will'.  
  
Carol just stayed there for a moment, looking at her, that dreamy smile still playing across her lips. It was something she did when she was thinking, Therese had noticed. Especially when she was watching her. It was so dark now, if Carol was sitting any further away, Therese would only be able to see an elegant silhouette. Now, though, she could still see that serene face, and the reflection of city lights in her eyes.  
  
 _God, she's so beautiful._  
  
'Will you go for a drink with me?' Carol asked suddenly.  
  
Maybe it was just alcohol churning in her empty stomach, but Therese was sure she felt butterflies. It was something she hadn't experienced in the longest time.  
  
She smiled. 'I'd like that'.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the love. The attention on this story is really unexpected, and I'm so glad you're having as much fun reading as I am writing.

Therese fastened her best necklace around her neck, a delicate silver chain with a tiny diamond charm. It was a gift from Richard, her ex-boyfriend, which made her feel a little uncomfortable sometimes, when she wore it, but it was the nicest piece of jewellery she owned.  
  
'You're even wearing Richard's necklace?' Dannie teased her, noticing straight away. 'It must be serious'.  
  
Therese rolled her eyes. 'Shut up'.  
  
Dannie was video calling, propped up against the microwave while Therese dashed around her apartment, getting ready. She'd overslept.  
  
'Do you know where you're going yet?' Dannie asked.  
  
'No. She just said to meet her at the Rockefeller Center'.  
  
'Tee, this is so unreal!'   
  
Therese couldn't help but smile at the thought. 'I know'.   
  
'You, on a date with Carol Aird!'  
  
She stopped then. 'Dannie, I thought we talked about this'.  
  
'Tee, it _is_ a date', he insisted.   
  
She shook her head. 'I don't know'.  
  
'You wish it was, though'.  
  
Therese sighed. So she'd admitted to herself, and everyone else, that she had a crush on Carol, after they'd practically forced it out of her when she turned up to McElroy's for her Saturday shift, the day after Carol's party. Her friends weren't surprised. Didn't everyone have a crush on Carol Aird? Having a crush on someone you've never met, because they're in a film or in a band or on TV, was normal. But it was different now. She'd only met her twice, but already Therese felt close to Carol. Like she'd known her before, like she knew her intimately. It was a strange magic, and she surrendered to the spell every time she thought about her. Which was a lot.   
  
'Yeah', she muttered. 'But that doesn't matter. She's way older than me, and she probably doesn't even like girls. I'm sure she just asked me 'cause she wants to be friends'.  
  
'Whatever', Dannie said dismissively.  
  
Therese ignored him, walking to a spot in the kitchen where she knew Dannie would be able to see her whole outfit.   
  
'Is this cool?' she asked, twirling.   
  
She wore a pale blue summer dress with white polka dots. It was cinched at the waist and flowed out into a knee-length skirt, with short sleeves and a V-shaped neckline that showed her cleavage - or lack of. On her feet she wore tan-coloured strappy sandals with a block heel, giving her an extra couple of inches of height. Her small cross-body beige handbag was draped across one shoulder. She'd straightened her hair, and put on a little make-up, but kept it neutral, with just a delicate flick of eyeliner and a light layer of dusty rose lipstick.   
  
'Yeah, you look nice', Dannie approved.  
  
'Okay, thanks'. She grabbed her sunglasses off the kitchen counter and picked up her phone, looking down at Dannie on the screen. 'I'm gonna go now'.  
  
'Good luck!' he exclaimed. 'Everyone is beyond excited to hear about this later!'  
  


* * *

  
It seemed that everyone in Therese's immediate circle of friends - that is, everyone who worked at McElroy's - was trying to get a hold of her as she made her way to Midtown. There was Mirai, a recent fashion graduate who'd moved to New York from Tokyo with her family when she was four, Lucas, a law school drop-out who was working at a bar to spite his father, and José, who'd grown up in Brooklyn in a big Puerto Rican family and performed at drag shows a few times a month. They all called. Phil texted, as well as Dannie, even though Therese had only just hung up on him. She would see most of them tonight, as her shift was from 8 o'clock until closing, and she promised them she would tell them everything about her afternoon with Carol then. She knew they were just excited. Things like this didn't happen to ordinary people like them. People like her.  
  
Carol was waiting for her when she arrived at the Rockefeller Center. She was leaning coolly against the wall, arms folded, in big sunglasses that did little to hide her identity. She wore beige tartan cigarette pants and the same Louboutin heels she'd worn at the party, with a silky black tank top tucked in. Effortlessly fashionable, as always, but not too extravagant. Therese felt better about her own outfit. Whilst getting ready she had worried she might be too under-dressed for wherever Carol planned to take her.  
  
'Hi', Carol greeted her as she approached, taking off her sunglasses. 'You look lovely'.  
  
'So do you', Therese replied, blushing.  
  
'I made a reservation at the Rainbow Room', Carol said, gesturing upwards with her head, to the towering building above them. 'Is that okay with you?'  
  
'Wow, yeah, of course', Therese replied breathlessly.  
  
The bar at the Rainbow Room was one of the most luxurious venues in the city. Therese had never been, but she imagined that Carol was a regular there. As they made their way into the building and took the elevator to the 65th floor, Therese sensed a difference around her. She felt noticed. She felt eyes on her. Maybe it was just her imagination.   
  
The sunlight fell upon Therese with a blazing heat as a server led them out of the air conditioned bar and out onto the terrace. Tables for four were lined up along a glass wall that revealed a picture-postcard view of the Manhattan skyline, the Empire State Building looming just a few blocks away, one of the only buildings to climb even higher than where they stood now. Even at one o'clock in the afternoon, every table was occupied, except one. The server took them there, and Therese sat opposite Carol next to the edge, slinging her bag over the back of her chair. She leaned into the glass, watching as the city shrunk below her. She felt like she was flying.  
  
Carol coolly observed Therese's fascination, until they were interrupted by a server.  
  
'Mrs Aird, nice to have you with us again', he welcomed her.  
  
'Oh, well, thank you for getting me a table so last minute!' she said gratefully.  
  
'What can I get for you ladies?'  
  
'I think I'll have a mojito. Therese, darling, what would you like?'  
  
'I'll have the same', she told the server timidly.  
  
He left with a polite smile, but as he did so, it felt as though the two of them were left exposed to the people around them. Again, Therese felt eyes on them. On her. She swore she could hear the whispers. 'That's Carol Aird!' they said.   
  
She ignored them. This was _her_ time with Carol. Everyone else didn't matter.   
  
Carol was looking up into the sun, eyes closed behind her sunglasses. The golden rays seemed to make her sparkle.   
  
'This weather's perfect', she commented. 'I haven't seen a New York summer like this in a while'.   
  
Therese knew what she meant. Last year, it had rained so often that the city felt it had missed out on the whole season.   
  
'Is it really always sunny in LA?' she asked.   
  
Carol nodded. 'Yes, it's awful'.   
  
Therese laughed. 'Why?'   
  
'Because it's no fun without seasons. Having sun almost every day kinda takes the novelty out of it'.   
  
'Do you like it there? Even without the weather?'   
  
Carol shrugged. 'I was pretty enamoured when I first moved there, because everything was new and exciting. But I miss New York'.   
  
'Do you spend a lot of time here?' Therese asked, trying to sound cool, to hide the hope in her voice.   
  
'I try to. I get work here often enough, and there's always press events. But LA is just more convenient. I feel like I'm always flying from one side of the country already. I'd be doing it even more if I didn't live in LA'.   
  
'Do you have any family out west?'   
  
Carol shook her head. 'None. They're all here. Harge is from New York, his parents still live in the city. They've been good to me, until recently, but Rindy's close to them. That's what I feel bad about the most. Rindy doesn't get to see her family often. She doesn't really have a relationship with my parents, because I don't, but she visits them occasionally. And she doesn't see Abby much. She's her godmother. Those two are devoted to each other'.  
  
'How long have you known Abby?'   
  
'25 years. We met at middle school. We used to date, if you can believe it'.   
  
Therese did a double take. Fortunately, the server appeared with their drinks, and carefully placed an ice cold mojito in front of each of them, piled with ice and fresh mint leaves. The younger woman took the moment to figure out her next move.   
  
So Carol _was_ interested in women. Therese had doubted it, because she hadn't wanted to be too hopeful that this really was a date. She hadn't wanted to be disappointed. But now it seemed like everything was going Therese's way, and she didn't quite know how to react.   
  
Carol watched her all the while, a smug smile playing on her lips. 'You're surprised', she observed as the server walked away.   
  
'Well, yeah', Therese said, trying to sound nonchalant. She _was_ surprised, of course. But she didn't want to let Carol know that. She took a different angle. 'I can't believe you're best friends with your ex. I don't speak to mine at all'.   
  
Carol waved a hand dismissively. 'I wouldn't even say she's my ex. We weren't even in a relationship, not really. It was just a brief fling, until we decided we were always meant to be friends and nothing more'.  
  
Therese propped her elbow up on the table and leaned her head in her hand. 'When was this?' she asked.   
  
'Just after college. Not long after that, I met Harge, and the rest is history. We got married when I was 25, and had Rindy five years later'. Carol looked down. 'And then everything went to shit'.   
  
'What happened?' Therese asked tentatively.   
  
'I fell out of love with him. It didn't take long. He fell out of love with me too, though he tries to deny it. Or maybe he just loved me in a different way. I don't know. But things weren't like they used to be at the start. Harge changed. The more successful I became, the more possessive and jealous he got'.   
  
'Sounds like a classic case of fragile masculinity', Therese joked.   
  
Carol laughed humourlessy. 'Something like that'. She sighed. 'He did and said some stupid things, sure, but then so did I. It got messy at the end. I did some things I regret'.   
  
Her eyes seemed to cloud over. Therese hurt at the sight.   
  
'Everyone does stupid things in their relationships', she said reassuringly, suddenly overcome by the need to comfort Carol. 'Everyone has regrets'.   
  
She wasn't lying either. Therese remembered the cruel things she had said to Richard when she broke up with him. But they had been together only half a year, and Therese hadn't really loved him at all. She knew that, after a long marriage and a child, Carol's regrets must have weighed so much heavier on her heart.   
  
Carol looked down. 'I felt so trapped', she confessed. 'I wanted to keep the family together for Rindy. And it's hard to make big life decisions when you know the press will scrutinise you whatever you do. But it got to a point where I couldn't do it anymore. The press will find out, soon enough. And it'll be a shitshow when they do'. Her face turned dark. 'They made us out to be the perfect Hollywood family for years. They put us on a pedestal. And when idols fall, it's a big story. It happens often enough. Maybe you're too young to remember what they did to Nicole Kidman when she and Tom Cruise divorced. The press harassed her for months. Paparazzi stalking her, invasive questioning. There were even rumours she'd had her cell phone hacked'.  
  
'That's terrible!'   
  
'That's what they do, the gossip columnists, the tabloid reporters. They're vultures. But I can't avoid them forever'.   
  
'What will you do? When the news gets out, I mean'.   
  
Carol shrugged. 'I'll hide out with Abby for a few days. The paparazzi don't know where she lives, so her place is a bit of a sanctuary for me'. She looked hopeful suddenly. 'Honestly, I'm surprised I've been able to keep it a secret for this long. But I know I can handle it better now. I've had some time to process everything'.  
  
She _seemed_ like she had a handle on everything, Therese thought. She'd come to terms with the end of her marriage, that was clear, and while it meant failure, it also meant opportunity.   
  
Therese had few ideas about Carol's intent, and her plans for this new chapter of her life. But they were here, together, drinking on a summer afternoon as Therese tried not to let her curiosity get the better of her, and Carol talked candidly about herself, trusting that Therese would keep her secrets. This couldn't mean nothing. 

_Just one more question_ , she decided.   
  
'So what will you do now?' she asked hopefully.   
  
'I don't know. That's what's exciting'. Carol's eyes sparkled as she looked at Therese. 'Right now, I just wanna hang out with you'.   
  
The younger woman smiled, unable to help herself. The butterflies were back, and there were even more of them this time, fluttering around violently in her stomach. It made her feel slightly sick and slightly euphoric at the same time. _Is this what happens, when your crush tells you they like you back?_ She felt like a schoolgirl again.   
  
Therese wondered if Carol knew what she had done to her. But from the way Carol watched her as she took a long sip of her mojito, leaving her to melt in the moment, Therese could only guess that she did.   
  
'Carol Aird?'   
  
Therese almost jumped as an unfamiliar voice broke the spell. It was the same for Carol.   
  
A girl with olive skin and long, luscious black curls had approached their table, hanging back a little as if she were too scared to come any closer. Therese saw in her that same nervousness that she had when she first met Carol, only a couple of weeks ago. The girl was young, maybe only 19 or 20, and she was looking at Carol as though she was seeing a real life incarnation of a deity she worshipped.  
  
'I'm sorry to interrupt, I just wanted to say hi to you', she said timidly. 'My name is Natalia. I go to Juilliard'.  
  
Carol's face lit up with excitement. 'You do? I went to Juilliard!'  
  
Natalia seemed to relax as she saw Carol's positive reaction. 'Yeah! I know'.  
  
'Do you love it?'  
  
'I do, yeah!' Natalia exclaimed. 'It's hard, but I feel like I'm growing so much already. And the people are really great'.  
  
Carol nodded in agreement. 'My years there were some of the best of my life', she said, voice tinged with nostalgia. 'Don't take even a moment for granted. It will be over before you know it'.  
  
Natalia shook her head. 'I won't. I actually came over here 'cause I just wanted to say . . . well, we're so proud of you at Juilliard. We talk about you often, and what an amazing success story you've become for all of us at school. I hope you know that you're a great inspiration'.  
  
Carol smiled. 'Oh, that's sweet of you to say. And I'm so proud to have come from Juilliard. Tell Lana Granger I said hi, if she's still there. She was my favourite teacher'.  
  
'She is, I'll tell her', Natalia laughed. 'Well, it was great to meet you. Enjoy your afternoon, both of you'. She nodded politely at Therese as she left, disappearing through the double doors into the bar.  
  
But, like before, as Natalia walked away, she left them exposed. The whispers seemed to start up again, even more blatant than before, because now Carol's identity had been confirmed. She could see, from the corner of her eye, that the strangers around them were watching, but she was too anxious to stare back at them defiantly.   
  
Carol seemed oblivious. 'I loved it at Juilliard. Even if it was the beginning of the breakdown in my relationship with my parents, 'cause they really didn't want me to go, it was - what's wrong?' she stopped suddenly, noticing Therese's discomfort.   
  
'Doesn't it bother you?' she blurted out before she could think of a more tactful way to express her concern. _Good_ _one, Tee_.   
  
Carol frowned. 'Doesn't what bother me?'  
  
'People always looking at you, always talking about you. Everyone knows who you are'.  
  
Carol sat back in her chair, like she was trying to gain a clearer view of Therese. 'Does it bother _you_?'  
  
'A little, I guess', she admitted.  
  
'You don't like to be centre of attention, do you?' Carol observed.  
  
'Definitely not'.  
  
'I could have already guessed that, from the way you freaked out when I tried to take a picture of you, at The Plaza', Carol remembered. Then she sighed. 'I'm sorry, darling. This is kind of what being in public with me entails'.  
  
'No, no, don't be sorry', Therese clarified. 'I know this is how it is, with you. It's just strange for me'.  
  
'I understand that', Carol assured her.   
  
'Anyway, stop trying to make it about me. I asked _you_ if it bothers _you_ '.  
  
Carol laughed. 'Of course it bothers me. But this has been my life for the past ten years. I've just gotten used to it. People like that girl Natalia are fine. It's the ones who try to shove a camera in my face I can't stand'.  
  
'I guess you can't go anywhere without being recognised', Therese mused, feeling sympathetic.  
  
'No. I can't. I can come to places like this', she gestured to the terrace, 'because they're deemed to be exclusive. People expect to see celebrities here, so I'm more likely to be left alone'.  
  
'Do you ever miss just going to normal places, like the grocery store or the park, and being anonymous?'  
  
Carol smiled sadly. 'I don't think people will ever understand how much I miss that', she said earnestly.  
  
Therese faltered. She tried to imagine a life like Carol's, a life where she couldn't go to the bars she wanted, or to the cinema, or to a club, unless she wanted to run the risk of having strangers approach her or her picture splashed across the internet. A life where privacy was a luxury. She couldn't imagine it at all, because it didn't seem possible.   
  
Then she thought of something crazy. 

* * *

After another round of mojitos at the Rainbow Room, Therese had felt a little drunk, and so she decided to take her idea and run with it. Carol had given her a strange look when she suggested that she take Carol to her friend's bar on the Lower East Side, but she trusted her.   
  
So the two of them abandoned their little table in the clouds, Carol paying for their drinks, because she insisted that it was her who asked Therese out, and therefore she had to pay. She also took the opportunity to remind Therese that she still owed her for the party photographs, which Therese had dropped off at reception at The Plaza a few days earlier. Therese refused to take any money for them in the end. It didn't feel like work to her.  
  
Waterloo was the unofficial sister bar of McElroy's, run by Darren, a college friend of Mirai's who'd become integrated in the McElroy's circle of friends. It was a small place, no bigger than the hipster bookshops and record stores that lined the rest of the street. Therese knew if there was any 'ordinary' bar for Carol, it would be Waterloo, because the people who drank there were all artists, musicians and film students who were too cool to go pandering after a celebrity. Or, at least, they thought they were too cool. Therese knew they would leave Carol alone.  
  
And another thing about Waterloo - it was busy. Always. No matter what time of day. It was the perfect place to meet people, if that's what you wanted, or it was equally perfect to lose yourself in a crowd, shrink anonymously into a corner. So that was where she left Carol, on a tiny table with a little two-seater bench along the window at the front, while she went to get them a drink.  
  
She had sensed a difference in Carol when they arrived, she thought, as she pushed her way through to the bar, but maybe it was just that their roles had reversed. Now they were in a place that was distinctly Therese, and Carol was somewhere new. It crossed her mind often that they were from two completely different worlds, but especially now.  
  
She spotted Darren, and waved to catch his eye as she slipped into a spot against the bar that had just freed up.  
  
'Um, Tee', he said, eyes narrowed. 'Did I just see who I think I did?'  
  
'I don't know, who did you think you saw?' she shot back defiantly. She gave him a smug smile.  
  
Darren laughed, taking two bottles of Modesto from the back fridge and sliding them to her, knowing what she would order without having to ask. Therese held out her money, but he shook his head.  
  
'On the house. On the condition that you tell me later what the fuck is going on'.  
  
Therese grinned at him. 'Thanks, I owe you'.  
  
'Yeah, you do', he called back as she left.  
  
Carol didn't seem at all out of place by the window. She looked cooler than ever in her black tank top with her sunglasses perched in a nest of golden waves. Maybe her shoes could give her away, but they were safely hidden under the table.   
  
Therese handed her a beer and shuffled behind the table, sitting down next to Carol on the bench. She felt her heartbeat quicken, being this close to her.   
  
'I haven't been to a place like this in the longest time', Carol said wistfully.   
  
'I can't even imagine that. I spend most of my life in places like this'.  
  
'Well, now we're in one of _your_ places, maybe you'll tell me something about yourself'.   
  
Therese took a swig of her beer. 'What do you mean?'   
  
'You're very good at asking me questions, but I actually don't know much about you at all'.   
  
Therese shrugged. 'There's not much to tell'.   
  
Carol pouted. 'Oh, come on'.   
  
'It's true', she laughed. 'My life just isn't very exciting'.   
  
'Well, what about the bar?' Carol pressed. 'Your friends? Tell me about them'.   
  
Therese thought for a moment. 'Well, I met Dannie in high school, we were in the same grade. His brother Phil is a couple years older than us. We got really close. I spent a lot of time at their house. I kinda became their sister'.  
  
'Do you have any other siblings?'   
  
'I don't have any family at all', Therese responded in a low voice.   
  
Carol frowned. 'You don't?'   
  
'My parents took off after I was born', she said distantly, as if she were discussing the life of someone else rather than her own. 'I grew up in the foster system'.   
  
Carol was silent for a moment, seeming to process this new information. 'Where does Belivet come from?' she asked.   
  
Therese took another swig of her beer. 'The only reason I know my own name is because of the neighbours', she explained. 'They could hear me crying, and there was no sign of my parents, so they got worried and called the cops. I went back to talk to them a few times, over the years, wanting to know where my parents went'. Her voice turned bitter. 'All they knew is that they were irresponsible and abusive drunks who didn't want me'.  
  
Carol was silent again, looking at her with pity in her eyes. It was Therese's least favourite expression to see on a person, and yet it was always the one she saw when she revealed her story. She knew she was deserving of it, because, in truth, her childhood had been awful. But still, it made her feel small.   
  
'I'm so sorry that happened to you', Carol said earnestly.   
  
Therese shook her head and shrugged of the sudden wave of resentment that had washed over her as she thought about her past. 'Don't be. I'm over it. At least, as much as I can be'.   
  
'That's why you wanted to help Rindy', Carol observed. 'You used to run away too, you mentioned it'.  
  
Therese nodded. 'Some of the homes weren't exactly a good environment for a kid. But hey, I'm okay now, and I have my own chosen family and I make my own money. Most kids dream of being rich and famous, but all I ever wanted was to be independent'.  
  
'You never wanted to be famous?'  
  
Therese laughed humourlessly. 'Sometimes it was difficult for me to see a future in which I was alive and not on drugs, let alone well-known and successful. What about you?'  
  
'I wanted to be an actor, of course I did', Carol replied simply. 'Then I got there, and I was happy at first, but I never thought it would go this far'.  
  
'Does it overwhelm you?' Therese asked.   
  
Carol sighed. 'I don't talk about this often, because I don't want to sound ungrateful, but sometimes I wish I could backtrack. I wanted to be a great actor, but I never wanted to be _this_ famous. I never imagined this kind of life for myself'.  
  
Therese looked at Carol, and she recognised her expression. She'd seen it before. Carol was lost. Sometimes she had that wistful look about her, and, other times, when she truly let down her guard, her eyes held such sadness that Therese wanted to cry.   
  
'I don't envy you, Carol', she confessed. 'I'm sure a lot of people do, but maybe they only see the glamour. And it's not all that. You're not nearly as glamorous as I thought you would be'.  
  
Carol laughed, giving her a playful shove. 'Gee, thanks!'   
  
Therese rolled her eyes. 'You know what I mean. You're just a person, like everyone else, you just happen to have a gift. You're realer than what they think'. Then she looked down at her lap, shyness getting the better of her. 'I'm just happy sitting here, being ordinary with you'.  
  
Carol smiled. 'I am too'.   
  
In the tiny space between them, hidden under the table, Carol slipped her hand into Therese's.   
  
  



	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love how much everyone freaked out over the lil hand-holding at the end of the last chapter. Please continue to freak out in the comments, it really makes me smile. Thanks, as always, for reading.

_All those little things that keep you up at night,_

  
_You should take some time to figure out your life_

  
A shadow fell across the doorway, and darkness washed over the narrow basement. Therese looked up.  
  
'Tee, there's someone here for you', Lucas called down the stairs.  
  
She frowned. 'Who is it?'  
  
'I don't know, some woman'.  
  
Therese lifted the half-opened crate of bottles and shoved them back onto the shelf, and rose to her feet. Who was looking for her on a quiet Monday afternoon? Why didn't Lucas know who she was? Everyone knew everyone at McElroy's.  
  
She climbed to the top of the stairs, and as she emerged through the door, she saw Abby sitting at the bar, talking away happily with Dannie, a glass of white wine in her hand.  
  
'How long has she been here?' Therese murmured to Lucas, who was leaning by the door, watching them.  
  
'Ten minutes, maybe', he replied. 'She only just asked for you, though'.  
  
 _Weird_ , Therese thought. What was Abby up to? How did she even know where to find her?  
  
She went over. Dannie noticed, and went back to drying glasses, leaving Therese alone with Carol's best friend.  
  
'Hey, Abby', she greeted her.  
  
Abby's eyes widened above her wine glass, mid-sip, and she quickly put her glass down. 'Hi, honey!'  
  
'What are you doing here?'  
  
'Oh, I was just in the neighbourhood', she said innocently.  
  
Therese narrowed her eyes. She wasn't going to fall for that. 'How did you know I work here?'  
  
'Genevieve owns the gallery around the corner', Abby explained nonchalantly. 'She saw you come in here the other day'.  
  
'Cantrell Gallery', Therese realised aloud, picturing the small but chic art gallery she had walked past many times before. 'I never even made the connection'.  
  
'Yeah, that's the place'.  
  
'When did she see me? Why didn't she say hi?'  
  
'She was driving'.  
  
'Oh'. Therese imagined Gen watching her from the other side of the street, sitting in some luxurious car, something sleek and elegant, like her. Only, she didn't imagine that Gen was driving at all. She was just sitting there, waiting for her.  
  
Therese shook off this strange thought, yet, at the same time, a part of her wondered if it might be true. Did she really just see her in passing? Why did she go and tell Abby so quickly? Why was Abby here now?  
  
There was an obvious reason, of course.  
  
'Are you spying on me, Abby?' Therese blurted out.  
  
Abby raised an eyebrow. 'What makes you think that?'  
  
The younger woman smirked. 'Oh, come on. You're sitting in my workplace at three o'clock on a weekday with no reason for showing up'.  
  
'That's true', Abby acknowledged.  
  
'At the party, too', Therese continued. 'You knew my name. You and Gen came over to me and swept me away to go get drinks with you'.  
  
'We were just being friendly', she said, rolling her eyes. 'You looked like a little lost sheep'.  
  
'I'm not saying I'm ungrateful, it was fun. I'm just saying...' Therese threw her hands up. 'I don't know, it just seems like you're checking me out or something'.  
  
Abby paused. 'Okay, you're right', she admitted. 'I just wanted to keep an eye on you'.  
  
'What, to check that I really _am_ a bartender?'  
  
'Yes, actually'.  
  
Therese raised an eyebrow. 'That seems a bit extreme'.  
  
Abby offered a sympathetic smile. 'I know, honey. I'm sorry, I don't mean to intrude, it's just . . . well, I was worried. Carol's been telling you all this stuff, and Gen and I wanted to make sure you were genuine'.  
  
'Abby, I don't want anything to do with this celebrity game -'  
  
'I know', she interrupted. 'I just had to be certain'.  
  
Therese sighed. 'I know you're worried about Carol', she assured her. 'I imagine a lot of people want to take advantage of her'.  
  
'You're right', Abby nodded. 'They do. People try to get close to Carol all the time, and often, they're not who they say they are'.  
  
'So you're like her personal bodyguard?' Therese smirked.  
  
'No, I'm her PA, and keeping her name out of the press is a full time occupation', she snapped.   
  
Therese flinched at the harshness of her voice, the fierce protectiveness with which she defended her role. Therese supposed she had the right to. It was more than just a job for Abby; her best friend's privacy depended on her. It must be a heavy burden to carry.  
  
The older woman's face softened at Therese's reaction, the hint of apology in her eyes. 'She doesn't know I'm here, if that's what you mean', she admitted. 'I'm looking out for Carol. Not only as her PA, but as her oldest friend. She's just gotten divorced, she's in a vulnerable place. There are . . . things . . . that could ruin her. I know she's let her guard down with you. I just hope you don't let her down'.  
  
'Abby, I promise I don't want any part of Carol's fame. I never sought her out on purpose, it was all an accident. I'm interested in _her_ , but I'm not interested in her star'.  
  
Abby looked at her, accusingly at first, but, as Therese stared her down, Abby relaxed, and it seemed to Therese that she had proved herself. Now Abby's eyes seemed to plead with her. Therese backed down, waiting for the older woman to make the first move.  
  
'What are your intentions with her?' Abby asked earnestly.  
  
Therese faltered.  
  
The truth was, she didn't quite know the answer herself. Carol was something else. Not just because she was a star, but because she was smart and beautiful and witty and funny and charming. And she was _real_. This idol that people had made of her was an illusion, and yet, they were completely right to hold her in such high regard. They just didn't know why they did, not like Therese knew.  
  
But she had tried not to look beyond the near future. Carol was only in New York temporarily, and she had Harge and Rindy to think about, to worry about. And, besides all that, there was still a lingering doubt that Therese simply wasn't good enough for her. Being together seemed like a distant dream, some other life that they could have shared if they had met under different circumstances. But it was a dream that Therese clung to like a child to their teddy bear.  
  
She sighed. 'I like her', she confessed to Abby. 'I like being with her. I'd like to see if we can be . . . something. I just don't know if it's possible'.  
  
Abby rested her head in her hand. 'You're so young, Therese'.  
  
She frowned. 'Is that a problem?'  
  
'No. I just hope you know what you're getting yourself into'.  
  
Therese looked at her defiantly. 'I don't. But I'll learn'.  
  


* * *

  
The day after her run-in with Abby, Therese decided it was about time _she_ made the first move. She texted Carol asking her out on another date, but decided she would leave it to her to choose where they would go, seeing as though Carol couldn't just go _anywhere_. She was surprised, though, when Carol texted her back with her idea.  
  
Three days later, Therese was waiting for her, leaning back against the wall, the summer sun beating down heavily on her face as she looked up into the sky, eyes closed.  
  
After a moment, she saw Carol approaching, in pale blue mom jeans and a plain mustard yellow t-shirt, her golden hair brushed out in its natural waves, and her signature huge sunglasses attempting to obscure her.

'Coney Island?' Therese raised an eyebrow at her.  
  
Carol shrugged. 'I thought it would be fun'.  
  
Therese smiled. 'No, it's cool. I just didn't expect it from you'.  
  
'Why not?'  
  
'Because it's a busy public place', Therese said. It was obvious, wasn't it?  
  
'They're sometimes the best places', Carol explained. 'You can get lost in crowds of people, and no one expects you to be there'.  
  
'True', Therese acknowledged. 'Well, I'm glad we came here instead of going for drinks. I don't think Phil would be too happy if I turned up at work drunk again'.  
  
Carol laughed. 'I'm sorry about that'.  
  
'I'm not. It was funny, actually. Some of the customers noticed I was drunk and bought me beers as a joke'.  
  
'Did you drink them?'  
  
'No, Lucas took them off me, and then he and Mirai sat at the bar and drank them when they got off their shift at 11. And then I had to close up with Phil and Dannie. It was torture'.  
  
Carol laughed again. Therese smiled, a warmth spreading inside her chest, from her heart outwards. She loved to make her laugh.  
  
The two of them began walking slowly along the boardwalk, the sea stretching out to their left, hot dog stands and funfair games in a row of colourful booths to their right. Therese wanted to reach out for Carol's hand, but she didn't dare do so, scared someone would recognise Carol and start asking questions. To the rest of the world, Carol Aird was still a married woman, and she was straight. Therese knew that they had to be discreet. She knew that whatever this was between them would have to remain behind closed doors.  
  
'I haven't been here in years', Carol reminisced, bringing her back from her thoughts. 'I brought Rindy a few times, because my mother used to bring me here when I was a child'. Carol poked Therese playfully in the ribs. 'Probably before you were even born'.  
  
Therese laughed as Carol's touch left a tickling sensation in her side. 'Do you even know how old I am?' she asked, suddenly unsure of the answer. Of course she knew how old Carol was. 38. She'd only had to google it.  
  
Carol gave her a smug side-eye. 'No. I guessed'.  
  
Clearly she was confident. 'What do you think, then?' Therese challenged.  
  
'25'.  
  
'Close. 26'.  
  
Carol sighed. 'Oh, to be 26 again', she said wistfully.  
  
'It's not all that', Therese said, shrugging.  
  
Carol frowned. 'Why do you say that?'  
  
'It's like, you're not a kid anymore but you haven't figured your life out yet'.  
  
'No one ever figures their life out. It doesn't matter what age you are'.  
  
'True. But I think 26 is kind of a stepping stone between being a teenager and a functioning adult. Everyone I know works in a bar or a store or something. None of us have real careers yet'.  
  
'Yeah, you're right', Carol conceded.  
  
'What were _you_ doing at 26?'  
  
'Working shitty jobs in LA, trying to get auditions'.  
  
'So you _do_ know what it's like'.  
  
'Sure. And I think it's hard when you want to do something creative because it's so difficult to figure out how to get in'.  
  
Therese sighed, dejected. 'Yeah, that's the problem I'm having'.  
  
'I'd try and give you some advice, but I don't know anything about photography, I'm afraid', Carol admitted. 'I know _people_ though. I'll have to speak to someone about helping you out'.  
  
'That would be great', Therese smiled gratefully.  
  
Carol shrugged. 'Well, I can't promise anything, but maybe it'll work'.  
  
They continued their long, slow walk, talking about nothing in particular, heading nowhere in particular. It was freeing for Therese, in a way, because it felt so pure and simple, just strolling along the seafront on a lazy summer afternoon, dressed down in denim shorts and a white Bikini Kill t-shirt, with someone she really liked beside her. And though she couldn't reach out and touch Carol, she kept inching closer to her side, and she sensed Carol doing the same, until there was barely a space between them.  
  
After a while, as they reached the amusement park, and the iconic Wonder Wheel towered above them, the passing couples and families became larger clusters and the screams and shouts from the rides grew louder. They were distracted by the calls of the guys who ran the carnival games, trying to convince passers-by to try their luck.  
  
'Those things are such a scam', Carol remarked.  
  
Therese laughed. 'What, why?'  
  
'They're rigged'.  
  
'No they're not'.  
  
'They are', Carol insisted. 'They make it impossible for you to win anything'.  
  
'Are you just mad 'cause _you_ never won anything?' Therese teased.  
  
'No', Carol shot back defensively. 'Go have a go if you don't believe me'.  
  
'Okay, fine, I will'.  
  
Therese looked across at the row of stalls, deciding which game she'd be best at. One involved throwing darts at a board full of balloons. _Maybe not that one_. At another stall, she would have to shoot at a row of moving clown faces and try to knock them down. She hadn't played that one before. Next to the shooting gallery was a simpler game that appeared to involve throwing a ball into a bucket without hitting too hard that it would bounce back out again. _That'll do_ , she thought. One thing that Carol definitely didn't know about Therese is that she was a good shot.  
  
'I'll play that one', she nodded towards the stall.  
  
Carol raised an eyebrow. 'Okay', she shrugged, still unconvinced.  
  
She followed her reluctantly over to the stall, where a young man in a multi-coloured shirt was juggling three tennis balls to pass the time as he tried to draw people in with the occasional shout.  
  
'How much?' Therese asked him as she approached.  
  
'3 dollars for 5 balls. If you get one in, you win a small toy', he gestured to a row of little stuffed animals hooked low on the wall, 'and so on. If you get all 5, you win one of giant ones'. He pointed upwards towards the huge teddy bears dangling from the ceiling above his head.  
  
Therese agreed and handed him her 3 dollars. He placed 5 tennis balls on the counter in front of her, and wandered over to the edge of the stall, leaning back to watch her.  
  
Carol hung back behind Therese, suddenly very interested despite her earlier contempt.  
  
Therese threw her first tennis ball. It fell into the bucket, but the bucket was so shallow that it bounced right out again. _Too hard_ , she thought. _That's okay, it's still the first one_.  
  
'Softer, next time', the man advised.  
  
Therese threw again. This time it missed the bucket completely. _Not hard enough._  
  
'Damn it', she cursed. She could hear Carol laugh behind her.  
  
'And again!' the man encouraged.  
  
She threw her third tennis ball. It landed with a dull thud in the bottom of the bucket.  
  
'Yes!'  
  
'Wooo!' the man cheered. 'Nice! Keep going!'  
  
Therese turned around to Carol, a smug smile on her face.  
  
She threw again. It didn't touch the bucket. _Missed_. Without stopping, she picked up her final tennis ball and threw it gently, tensing as it did a light bounce, but stayed firmly in the bucket.  
  
'That's two!' the man came over and gave Therese a high-five. 'Nice shot!'  
  
'Thanks. What do I win?'  
  
'Any of these on the second row'.  
  
Therese scanned the array of stuffed animals. Penguins, cows, tigers, orcas. She settled on a lion, no bigger than a basketball, with soft golden fur and a wiry orange-brown mane.  
  
'I want the lion', she pointed, aware that she sounded like a little kid in a toy store.  
  
The man unhooked the lion by the little tag in its ear, and handed it over to Therese. 'Thanks for playing'.  
  
'Thank _you_ ', Therese smiled.  
  
She turned around to see Carol, arms folded, watching her. Despite the fact that she had just been proven wrong, she still appeared to be impressed.  
  
'Not bad', she remarked.  
  
Therese took a bow, which made Carol laugh. Then she handed her the lion.  
  
'For you', she said shyly, all the new-found cockiness from her triumph at the game melting away in an instant.  
  
Carol smiled down at the toy, stroking a hand through its fuzzy mane. 'No one's ever won anything for me before', she said. Then she looked up at Therese, and reached out to squeeze her hand. 'Thank you, darling'.  
  
'You're welcome', Therese said, a shy smile on her lips.  
  
She was pleased that this cheap toy could have such an effect on Carol, because she knew it was she that had made it special. She felt her heart swell.  
  
Carol hugged the lion to her chest as they drifted further into the heart of the amusement park. Sometimes, she would lightly bump into Therese, brushing her hand against hers on purpose, shooting her a brilliant smile every time she did. It was as openly flirtatious as she could be, but that didn't bother Therese. If Carol was someone else, she knew they'd be holding hands freely. Maybe Carol would drape an arm around Therese's waist, pulling her closer as they walked. That couldn't happen, but the intention was there, and that mattered, even if Therese felt a little saddened at the prospect.  
  
They finally reached the foot of the Wonder Wheel. Carol stopped, and held a hand over her eyes, shielding them from the sun as she looked up.  
  
'Well, all this excitement's got me thinking we should take a ride', she said, and shot a questioning glance at Therese.  
  
'Sure', Therese agreed.  
  
So they waited in line as the wheel turned slowly, shuffling along as the next couple were locked into the swinging cages and lifted up into the clear blue sky, and the next, and the next. Therese saw a group of young girls down on the floor, whispering excitedly amongst themselves, pointing at Carol, and only then did she realise that she hadn't noticed people like them at all. All this while, just strolling with Carol, they had been in their own little world, and Therese hadn't had the time to notice who was watching them, because it was Carol who occupied all of her attention. And now, up in the sky, they would be truly alone. Therese's heart began to race.  
  
At the front of the queue, they were ushered into a red and yellow striped metal cage, and had barely sat down when the cage lurched forward, and then backward, as they were lifted into the air.  
  
Carol's hand flew to grab the side of the cage. 'Woah'.  
  
'Are you scared?' Therese teased.  
  
'No. I've ridden this thing countless times. But every time I come back, it seems to have aged a hundred years'.  
  
'Fair point', Therese agreed. The wheel seemed to creak and groan in response.  
  
The whole amusement park had aged too, and from above that was clearer than ever. She noticed the decaying roofs of the stalls down below, the rusted metal of the wheel that held them now. Not that Therese had visited many times, but she had to admit she enjoyed the feel of the place. It was a living relic of a bygone era, a snapshot of the past.  
  
Carol pushed her sunglasses up into her hair and looked out over the amusement park and the boardwalk, and out to sea. Maybe she was thinking the same thing.  
  
'It's lovely, isn't it?' she said after a moment. Then she laughed. 'Well, of course it isn't. But it's still lovely to me'.  
  
Therese watched her, saw the longing in her eyes, heard the nostalgia in her voice.  
  
'I could stay with you here forever', she said blissfully.  
  
Then she panicked, for a moment. For someone who was usually so careful, she was surprised she had allowed that to escape her lips.  
  
But Carol turned to her and smiled. 'Me too. With you'. She sighed, and looked out to sea again, as if she was searching for something. 'There's something about you that just takes me away from it all', she said dreamily. 'It's like, you don't look at me and see _Carol Aird_. You just see _me_ '.  
  
Therese understood instantly. It was so tragic to her that someone as vibrant as Carol had been somewhat reduced to a name, an image. To some, she was an aspiration, to others, an object of desire, but to all, she was visible, and yet, she was entirely unknown to all of them.  
  
Except to Therese.  
  
'That's because I don't want to be with Carol Aird', she said. 'I want to be with you'.  
  
Carol looked at her, and in that moment, Therese knew it was going to happen. Carol leaned in, and Therese did the same, their lips meeting softly as the space between them closed. Carol ran a gentle hand through Therese's hair, while Therese's arm snaked around the back of Carol's waist.  
  
Therese had expected fireworks, but it didn't feel like that. It was natural and normal, as if kissing Carol was what she was made to do, as if she'd kissed her a thousand times before. Their only audience was the cloudless blue sky. Here in the air, they could be anything they wanted.  
  



	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope everyone's having a great week!

It was another quiet weekday afternoon at McElroy's, with just Therese and Dannie on the bar, when another visitor showed up for Therese.   
  
This time it was Genevieve, snatching her enormous sunglasses off her face as she stood in the doorway, tossing them carelessly into the Prada handbag that hung on the crook of her arm. She was dressed impeccably, in coffee coloured cigarette pants, fastened at the waist with a thin black belt, and a silky beige tank top, with cream stilettos to add an extra few inches to her small stature.   
  
'What is it with you and middle-aged women at the moment?' Dannie murmured behind Therese. She turned around and snapped her towel at him.  
  
Genevieve stalked up to the bar and slid elegantly onto a bar stool, tucking a strand of her long, sprawling black hair over her shoulder.   
  
Therese went over to her.   
  
'Hey, Gen'.  
  
Gen smiled. 'Hi, baby. I like your hair like that'.  
  
Therese touched the ends of her hair, tied up in a ponytail, almost self-consciously. 'Thanks'.  
  
'Is this your brother?' Gen looked towards Dannie, who was still lingering by the door to the basement, watching them with curiosity.   
  
'Yeah, this is Dannie', Therese responded, gesturing with her hand for Dannie to join them.   
  
He came over sheepishly, shaking Genevieve's outstretched hand. Therese smirked at him, unsure as to why he seemed so nervous around the older woman. She could only guess that it was because Gen was very attractive, in a dangerous sort of way. Even without Abby's warmth to provide a clear contrast, there was still something cold and reserved in Gen's beauty, in her mannerisms, and the sharpness of her voice, which seemed to cut like shards of glass, even if what she was saying was kind.   
  
'Hi', Gen said to Dannie. 'You run this place, don't you?'  
  
'Yeah, with my brother Phil'.  
  
'I love it', she admired, her piercing blue eyes darting around the room. 'You know, I used to work in a dive bar in London, at the end of the nineties'.   
  
'You did?' Therese was surprised. She couldn't imagine someone as polished as Genevieve working in a dive bar.  
  
She nodded. 'It was so much fun. Until I got fired'.  
  
'Why did you get fired?'  
  
'I had a little cocaine problem', she replied abruptly.  
  
Therese blinked, shocked at her willingness to give up such personal information to someone she barely knew.   
  
'Wow, okay', she said awkwardly.  
  
'Do you want something to drink, Gen?' Dannie intercepted quickly.  
  
'Yes, please', she smiled sweetly. 'I'll have a vodka on the rocks'.  
  
'Sure thing', he said, going to grab a glass from the back shelf.  
  
'How have you been?' Therese asked Genevieve, to the sound of Dannie shovelling ice into a glass.  
  
The older woman shrugged. 'Fine. Bored. I was in Milan for a couple of weeks'.  
  
'Milan is boring?' Therese smirked.  
  
'I had to go and impress this rich Italian art dealer so he'd let me have a painting for my gallery'.  
  
'Did it work?'  
  
Gen's nodded, as her eyes flashed with mischief. 'I slept with him. And his wife'.  
  
Again, Therese was taken aback by her bluntness. She almost laughed.  
  
Dannie was the same. He just stared at Gen, wide-eyed. 'At the same time?' he asked.  
  
Gen shook her head, a smug smile on her face.  
  
'I think you're my hero', Dannie breathed, putting her glass down in front of her.  
  
'How flattering. I'm sure I can teach you a few things'. She winked at him.  
  
Therese rolled her eyes. _Let's move on_ , she thought.  
  
'How's Abby?' she asked, changing the subject. 'I haven't seen her around here in a while. I thought she'd want to spy on me a little more'.  
  
Gen shrugged. 'She's very protective. She's seen some shitty things happen to Carol. Don't take it personally'.   
  
'Is that why _you're_ here?'   
  
'To spy on you? No. I'm here for the gossip'.   
  
'So _that's_ why you keep dropping bombs'.   
  
Gen laughed. 'I do that all the time', she said dismissively, as if it was obvious. 'Everyone says I'm outrageous, but I'm just open. If people weren't so embarrassed all the time, I bet you'd find a lot of people are as wild as I am'.   
  
Those piercing blue eyes seemed to sparkle every time she said something like that. Therese could see that she enjoyed shocking people, made a game out of it. There was definitely an unpredictability about Genevieve, and she knew that being friends with her would keep her on her toes. Maybe that was why Carol liked having her around.  
  
'I don't know about that', Therese murmured.  
  
'So what about _you_ , baby?', Gen deflected. 'How's Carol? I know you've been seeing her a lot more than I have'.  
  
That was true.

Dating Carol had become a steady thing in the past few weeks, and it seemed a future where they could be together was more real, although it still loomed on the far-away horizon. Maybe Therese was even falling in love with her, though she believed it was too soon to be certain.   
  
But it was also so complicated. It was different from any situation she had in the past, because Therese was ready to fully integrate Carol into her life, but she knew Carol couldn't do the same for her. The magic she felt with her wasn't wearing off, but perhaps the novelty was, each time she thought of something she'd like to do with Carol, some place she'd like to take her, and realised she probably wouldn't be able to do it.   
  
Time together was precious. Therese's shifts stretched from midday to the evening, or, more often, from the evening until the early hours of the morning. It was a life lived off-kilter that had become a strangely comforting routine for her. Carol had equally unstable working hours. Some days she would spend eighteen hours on set, others she lazily dropped by in the afternoon for a brief scene or two. When she wasn't working, she was with Rindy, who was living mostly at Harge's parents house while he was preparing to move his life permanently to New York. Time left over was split between arguing with Harge over their legal issues, or planning her other business affairs with Abby. Somehow, though, there was always time for Therese. Carol made the time, carved out a safe space in amongst the chaos of her life in which the two of them could spend a few quiet hours together.   
  
'It's really good, when I'm with her', she told Gen. 'I guess you know how it is. She's so busy'.   
  
Gen nodded in understanding. 'Has she moved to the apartment yet?'   
  
'Yeah, last week'. Carol was renting a place on the Upper East Side for the next few months she would be in New York. Therese had only been there once.   
  
'What have you two been up to, then?' Gen asked.   
  
'We've been out a few times'. Therese shrugged. 'Like I said, she's busy. And it can be hard, being out with her in public. People are always watching'.  
  
'I know what you mean. I used to feel the same, but I got used to it'.  
  
Therese looked away. 'Maybe _you_ got used to it, but I think it's different for me'.   
  
Genevieve frowned. 'Why?'   
  
'Well, you're _you_. You're . . . established. You seem like the type of person Carol would hang out with. When they see me, it's like . . . I don't know. We took Rindy to the Museum of Natural History last week. People probably thought I was her nanny or something'.   
  
'It's a good disguise', Gen said flatly.  
  
Therese sighed. To hear others confirm the necessity to hide made it harder somehow. 'Yeah, I guess you're right'.  
  
'And what does Rindy think of you?'   
  
She smiled at the thought of her smallest friend, and how much they laughed when they were together. 'We get along great. Carol said she asks about me all the time'.   
  
'Does she know you're dating her mother?'   
  
'I don't know', Therese admitted. 'Maybe? Sometimes she looks at me like she's figured it out'.  
  
Gen paused for a moment, sipping at her vodka. Then she narrowed her eyes. 'How many people know about you and Carol?'   
  
'I haven't told anyone except the guys here, and they know not to say anything', Therese promised. 'And there's Abby, and you. I don't think Carol told anyone else'.   
  
'Hmm. Okay. Well, you're used to being low-key by now, aren't you?'   
  
Therese nodded, somewhat reluctantly.   
  
'Good', Genevieve said curtly. 'I'm having a party on Saturday, at my apartment. I need to impress some art dealers from Tribeca. Carol always shows up, because they all get starstruck, even if they pretend not to be. She wants you to be there'.   
  
Therese nodded her head in Dannie's direction. 'You'd better ask my manager if I can have the night off'.  
  
Gen looked to the end of the bar, where he was cutting limes, trying not to look like he was eavesdropping on their conversation. 'You're invited too, Dannie', she called to him.   
  
Dannie pulled a face. 'Phil's out of town on Saturday. Therese can take it off, but I can't. Next time though, Gen'.   
  
She nodded. 'I'll hold you to that'.   
  


* * *

  
  
Genevieve's apartment was exactly how Therese had expected it would be. Open and spacious, with white walls and light wooden floors that made it seem even bigger. The minimalist furniture was black and white, but the paintings that adorned the walls brought a pop of colour to the place. The kitchen and lounge formed one enormous room, where people drifted around the room to the sound of jazz piano. It was a lot calmer than the party at Carol's, in fact, this wasn't a party at all, more of a gathering. Carol's was a lot more fun, but tonight was about Gen and her stuck-up fine art friends.  
  
Therese was standing by the floor-to-ceiling window with Abby, champagne glass in hand, gazing out over the city as the sun dropped below the skyline, flooding the apartment with a golden orange glow. This was one thing Therese dreamed of. If she had money in the future, she always thought she'd want an apartment with a view, maybe even a balcony. Seeing New York from above never ceased to amaze her, even if the sheer size of the place made her feel small.   
  
Abby was too busy checking out some woman on the other side of the room, tall and slim in an olive green pantsuit, with a cloud of red hair in pin-up style waves, like Rita Hayworth. Therese caught Abby's deep brown eyes flickering over to her every few moments.   
  
'Who is she?' Therese asked after a while.   
  
'I don't know', Abby murmured, taking a sip of her champagne.   
  
'But you want to'.   
  
'I have a real thing for redheads', Abby confessed.  
  
'She's pretty', Therese observed, somewhat indifferently. It was as if dating Carol had ruined her for any other woman. No one else came close to Carol's beauty.   
  
Abby watched her across the room, not even trying to be discreet anymore. 'Do you think she's gay?' she wondered aloud.   
  
'I have no idea'.   
  
Abby turned to her suddenly. 'Are you gay?'   
  
'Yeah', she replied, unsure of why Abby had so abruptly decided she needed to know.  
  
'Carol said you had a boyfriend, before'.   
  
Therese waved a hand dismissively. 'He just proved to me that I'm not into guys'.   
  
'Have you ever had a girlfriend before?'   
  
'Yeah, two'. She neglected to tell her that they were two extremely brief and unsatisfying relationships, but they were her girlfriends, nevertheless.   
  
Abby tilted her head to one side, as if she was trying to study her from another angle. 'You're so young, you're gorgeous, you live in New York. You could have any woman, and you choose Carol. The most complicated one'.  
  
Therese looked at her, saw the curiosity etched across her face, in the lines of her furrowed brow. It was lost on her. Abby was wrong. If she really _could_ have any woman in New York, surely she'd have met the right one by now, a nice ordinary girl she could have settled down with, had a normal life with. Things would have been much easier that way. But she'd been here 26 long years, and not once had she ever felt this connection to anyone but Carol. There was no one like Carol. She only wanted Carol.  
  
'You know, I thought of moving away', she remembered, the plan seeming obscene now. 'And when I did, I met Rindy, and then I met Carol. It was like a sign. I'd been waiting for someone like her, and I didn't expect it to be _her_. But I'm in it for the long haul, Abby'.   
  
Abby smiled back, but it held a trace of sympathy. 'I'm rooting for you both, honey. I really am'.  
  
Before Therese could respond, Genevieve appeared at Abby's side. Therese hadn't even spoken to her yet, because when she'd arrived, Gen was in the corner with Jeanette, looking like they were wrapped up in some deep conversation. She left them alone.   
  
'Hi', Gen said breathlessly, as if she'd run across the room to them.   
  
'Hey, Gen', Abby greeted.   
  
'Are you okay?' Therese asked.   
  
'Yes, of course', Gen murmured, barely even looking at Therese. 'Baby, I need to steal Abby for a moment. Go talk to Carol, she's been relieved of her wing-woman duties'.   
  
'. . . Okay'. Therese looked towards the kitchen, to Carol, who happened to be looking back at her, as if she was waiting. Carol caught her eye, and smiled.   
  
Therese went to her, happy to escape Gen and Abby's strange behaviour.   
  
'What's up?' Carol asked as she approached, noticing Therese's frown.  
  
'Abby was being weird with me again', she mumbled, folding her arms sulkily.  
  
'She's weird in general', Carol joked.  
  
Therese sighed, leaning back against the kitchen island, next to Carol.  
  
Carol's smile faded. 'You still think she doesn't like you?'  
  
'It's not about her _liking_ me, it's about her _trusting_ me'.  
  
'Well, it's hard, winning her trust. Especially when it comes to me'.  
  
'Believe me, I know', Therese deadpanned.  
  
'Well, what were you talking about?'  
  
'She asked me if I was gay'.  
  
Carol laughed. 'Why? She's just checking that you actually _are_ attracted to me?'  
  
'It's more than that. She looks at me like I'm crazy for wanting to get involved with you, like I'm a little kid who doesn't know what she's doing'. Therese shrugged. 'And maybe I don't. All I do know is what I want with you'.  
  
'And what do you want with me?' Carol asked, a seductive smile starting on her painted red lips.  
  
Therese looked back at her confidently. 'Don't you know?'  
  
Carol's eyes seemed to sparkle in response, because of course she knew. Her head tilted down, she looked up at Therese, her very own Lauren Bacall look, the one Therese loved. It made her breath hitch every time she saw it, because it was the sexiest Carol ever looked.   
  
As if to complete this 1940s fantasy, Carol reached behind her and picked up a tumbler of bourbon, swirling the amber liquid around in the glass before taking a sip.  
  
'Sometimes I think you must be from another era', Therese said candidly as she watched her.  
  
Carol laughed, putting her drink back down. 'Why do you say that?'   
  
'There's just something about you. Your looks, maybe, or the way you talk. What you drink. I don't know. There's just no one like you'.   
  
'Is that just a really nice way of saying I'm old?'   
  
Therese laughed. ' _No_. It just means . . . I can't even explain it. You're just . . . timeless. That's how I think of you. A once in a lifetime type. And for some reason, you choose to spend your time with me'. Therese looked at her. 'Do you think I sound crazy?'   
  
'No, I think you're completely enchanting', Carol said earnestly.  
  
Now was one of those painful times where Therese unconsciously reached for Carol, but snatched her hand away before she got too close. They were still in public, despite only being in Genevieve's apartment, and so to touch her wasn't an option. It would give too much away. Carol wanted to keep her a secret, and that was a difficulty that Therese was still learning to navigate. But she was committed enough to sacrifice that little bit of freedom that would allow her to hold Carol's hand in the presence of other people, to plant kisses on her lips whenever she wanted to.  
  
Maybe Carol was thinking the same thing, because suddenly she stood up straight. 'Come with me', she said.  
  
Therese could only follow.  
  
They slipped unnoticed down the hall, and to the end of a long corridor, where Carol led her through a doorway on the right. Genevieve's bedroom. This room to was all black and white, with charcoal grey satin sheets on the bed, and a single framed photograph of a young girl with olive skin and hazelnut curls cut bluntly at her shoulders, sitting on a wall by the Tower Bridge in London, elbow propped up on her knee, the side of her head resting in her hand.   
  
Carol closed the door silently, and in one smooth move Therese found herself pushed up against it, Carol's hands holding down her wrists as her lips pressed against hers. She relaxed backwards as Carol let go of her wrists, bringing her hands up to stroke Therese's hair behind her ears, caressing the sides of her face, her neck.   
  
'I just had to do that', Carol said breathlessly as they drew apart. One hand remained on Therese's cheek, stroking her soft skin with light her fingertips. 'I'm sorry I can't be with you like you deserve', she said, the heaviness of apology in her voice. 'One day, I will'.  
  
Therese took her hand from the side of her face and squeezed it, looking straight into Carol's sad eyes, and hoping that Carol could see the hope in hers. 'Then I'll wait', she promised.   
  
Carol kissed her again, deeply, lovingly. Freely.   
  
'My angel', she breathed against her lips. 'Flung out of space'.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Friday everybody! Thanks for all the kudos and comments as always. I'm having so much fun with this!

Therese's phone buzzed on the couch arm, the vibrations causing it to jump across the worn fabric and, after a moment, onto the wooden floor, landing with a loud crack.  
  
'Shit', she cursed, as she went over and snatched it up off the floor, sparing a couple seconds to inspect the screen for any new scratch caused by the fall, before hitting the accept button.  
  
'Hey, Abby'.  
  
'You're not at the bar', she said, more of a statement than a question.  
  
'No, I don't start my shift until tonight. Are you there right now?'   
  
'I need to speak to you', Abby said, ignoring the question.  
  
She hesitated. 'Well I'd say you can come by the bar later, but it'll be busy then-'   
  
'Can we meet somewhere now?' Abby pressed.  
  
Therese frowned. 'It sounds urgent'.  
  
'It might be'.

* * *

  
Abby was already waiting for her when she arrived, twenty minutes later, at her favourite café, just a block away from her apartment. It was, in her opinion, the perfect mix of old and new. Naked lightbulbs hung from the ceiling, hanging baskets spilling over with long, triangular green leaves adorned the walls, and the tables were light oak, but the layout was far from contemporary, with a row of booths lining the side wall, like a 1950s diner.   
  
She joined Abby in the third booth along, sliding into the opposite bench, and was pleased to find that Abby had already ordered her a coffee.   
  
'I just got you a cappuccino, honey, I don't know what you usually drink', Abby said, pushing the white china cup across to her.   
  
'No, that's great, thank you', Therese accepted it gratefully, admiring the delicate leaf pattern drawn in cream on the liquid's surface.   
  
Abby ran a hand through her perfectly straight hair, brushing it behind her ear, and leaned back into the bench, clutching her own cappuccino with both hands. It appeared she was about to say something, but they remained in silence, Abby watching her with the faintest hint of anxiety in her expression.   
  
'So, what did you want to talk to me about?' Therese encouraged, sensing that she needed to make the first move.   
  
Abby remained frozen for a moment, then looked to her left, as if to confirm there was no one in earshot.  
  
 _She is one paranoid woman_ , Therese thought, not for the first time.   
  
'Gen's party was a set-up', she said suddenly.   
  
Therese blinked. 'A set-up?'  
  
Abby nodded slowly. 'I don't know if you've noticed, but lately a handful of reporters have been getting dangerously close to Carol's private life', she explained.   
  
'I don't read anything about Carol on the internet', Therese shook her head defiantly.  
  
Abby shrugged. 'Well, you'll just have to believe me then. Anyway. Genevieve and I thought that someone close to Carol must be feeding information to the gossip columnists'.  
  
Therese quickly saw where this was going. Anger bubbled up inside her like water from a hot spring.   
  
'Am I a suspect?' she demanded.   
  
'. . . Yes'.  
  
'Is that why you interrogate me every time you see me? Why Gen is on my tail as well? Who do you think you are, fucking Sherlock Holmes and Doctor Watson?'  
  
Abby rolled her eyes. 'Oh, come on. Of course you're a suspect, honey, _you're_ with Carol! You have all the power, you can use it for financial gain, for your own notoriety. I have no idea! I don't know you, Therese'.  
  
Therese opened her mouth to speak, ready to fire something back, but found she couldn't. Abby had a point. However hard Therese fought to defend herself, she and Abby were still only acquaintances.   
  
She leaned back into her chair, folding her arms sulkily. 'Go on'.  
  
'We invited every one of our suspects to Gen's apartment', Abby continued. 'We let you, and Carol, and everyone else believe it was so Gen could show off her famous friends to some potential collaborators. Which is also true, actually'.  
  
'Even Carol didn't know?' Therese wondered aloud.   
  
'No'.   
  
'. . . So what happened?'  
  
'We just went around talking to people, hoping someone would slip up. And they did. Gen had her suspicions, and she managed to catch our culprit out. She got her to admit it'.   
  
'Who is it, then?'   
  
Abby sighed. 'It's Jeanette'.  
  
Therese blinked. 'Jeanette?' She was Carol's friend, and had been since Carol got married! Harge and Jeanette's husband had known each other for more than twenty years. 'Why would she betray Carol like that?'   
  
'Money'. Abby laughed humourlessly. 'She likes to convince everyone that she's New York high society, with her rich and influential husband. Turns out he hasn't worked in two years. Of course, she never told us that. So she started leaking information about Carol to the press'.   
  
'That's terrible!'   
  
'Yeah, well. That's just the way it is. But our problem now is not _why_ she's selling. It's _what_ she's selling. Turns out that she'd promised the press a big story. If they'd pay her the right price'.  
  
'She was going to tell them about Carol's divorce', Therese realised.  
  
Abby nodded. 'Actually, she _is_ going to tell them'.  
  
Therese frowned, not understanding. 'You couldn't stop her?'  
  
'I have stopped her, partially at least', Abby said vaguely. 'We made a deal'.  
  
 _A deal_? Therese was dumbfounded. Abby was really going to let Jeanette get away with this?  
  
'What kind of deal?' she pressed.  
  
Abby shifted uncomfortably. Therese could see the concentration on her face. The older woman was trying to choose her words carefully, which could only mean one thing - that she was being vague on purpose.  
  
'She gets to sell part of the story, and Carol will pay for her silence over the other half', Abby finally explained. 'She can deliver on her big exclusive, tell them Carol's just gotten divorced. But she's not allowed to mention the reason why'.  
  
Therese felt her heart speed up. 'What do you mean, the reason why?'  
  
Abby looked at her earnestly. 'The full story of why Carol's marriage ended is more complicated than you know', she said matter-of-factly. 'What happened last year has the potential to ruin her. I'm doing everything in my power to keep it out of public knowledge, and she's so terrified that she won't ever talk about it with anyone. Even with you'.  
  
'How do you know I don't know already?' Therese challenged, though all her confidence had been knocked right out of her.  
  
'Because Carol told me you don't'.  
  
Fear spread through Therese's body like cold water running through her veins, the kind she sometimes felt as she walked home alone through dark city streets, with the feeling that someone was behind her, following her.   
  
'Has Carol been lying to me?' she choked out.   
  
'She hasn't lied, she just . . . there's something she hasn't told you'. Abby held up her hands. 'I shouldn't be saying any of this'.  
  
'Don't you think I have the right to know?' Therese urged.   
  
'It's not my story to tell'. She shot her an apologetic smile. It didn't comfort Therese. It just alienated her more than ever.   
  
'You're always keeping me in the dark', she said, dejected. 'It hurts, that you don't trust me'.  
  
'I'm sorry it has to be like this'.  
  
Therese shot her an accusing look. 'You always tell me you're sorry, but you never prove that you are'.  
  
Abby reached over the table, and put her hand on top of Therese's. 'I just wanted to give you a heads up. Carol's going to freak out. You should be prepared for it'.  
  


* * *

  
Three days later, Abby was proven right. It happened exactly how she had planned.  
  
For Therese, it began with a loud knock on her front door, waking her with a start. She turned over and glanced at her alarm clock, where white glowing numbers read 11.07. She groaned into her pillow, before rolling out of bed and heading to the front door, without even a care to check how she looked in the mirror. She already guessed how she looked. Sleepy, and irritated.  
  
She opened the door to find Mirai standing in the hallway, tall and commanding as she was, slim like a supermodel, and strikingly beautiful, with her bold eyeliner wings and her poker-straight black hair tied in a high ponytail. She looked Therese up and down, noticing her tangled hair and scruffy, over-sized t-shirt.   
  
'I woke you up', she observed.   
  
Therese rubbed the sleep from her eyes. 'Yeah, I closed last night'.  
  
Mirai pursed her lips. 'Then you haven't seen'.  
  
'Seen what?'  
  
Mirai sighed. 'What Abby told you... well, she was right', she said heavily. 'Look it up'.  
  
'Shit', Therese cursed aloud, running her hands through her hair in frustration. Mirai just shrugged, shooting her a sympathetic look.   
  
Therese ran back to her bedroom and snatched up her phone from her bedside table.   
  
Seven missed calls from Carol.   
  
'Shit, shit, shit!'  
  
She went back into the lounge.   
  
'Do you want to be alone?' Mirai asked.   
  
Therese smiled at her friend gratefully. She knew too well that if Therese had a breakdown, she'd want to do it in private. 'Yeah. Please. I'm sorry'.  
  
Mirai nodded. 'Well, I'll see you later. Call me if you need, okay?'  
  
'I will', Therese promised. 'Thanks for coming'.  
  
Mirai reached out and squeezed Therese's hand, before turning to leave.   
  
Therese closed the door behind her and went over to the couch, collapsing in a heap, and, taking a deep breath, she googled Carol's name.  
  
A number of articles flashed before her eyes, some published earlier in the morning, others just minutes ago. They all stated the same thing in their cold, unforgiving black lettering. CAROL AIRD DIVORCES HUSBAND. Therese's heart sank. She clicked on one of the articles, and let her eyes scan over the summary.   
  
_Acclaimed actress Carol Aird and her husband Hargess Aird have divorced after 13 years of marriage, a source close to the couple has confirmed today. Both from New York City, they have one child together, eight year old daughter Nerinda. They had been living together in Los Angeles since 2007. The reason for the split is still unknown, though the news today has been surprising for many, who believed that the couple was the epitome of Hollywood romance._  
  
An uneasiness stirred inside Therese as she read those words. From what she had heard from Carol, this 'Hollywood romance' that everyone adored was a front, a shiny façade for a relationship that was full of possessiveness and jealousy and bitterness. But, nevertheless, Carol was protected by it, exempt from scandal and speculation as long as the public believed she was a committed and loving wife. Now her failed marriage would be put on display for the world to see, like a giant billboard on the side of a building. That protection was stripped away.  
  
Therese called her. She answered on the second ring.   
  
'Therese, thank God, I've been trying to reach you', Carol said frantically.   
  
'I finished late last night, I was still in bed-'  
  
'Have you seen?'   
  
Therese swallowed. 'Yes'.  
  
'Did you know?' Carol demanded. 'Did Abby talk to you?'   
  
Therese felt irritated by the harsh edge in Carol's voice, as if Therese herself was the reason for it. 'Yeah, we spoke a few days ago', she told her.  
  
'Well maybe you'd care to enlighten me, if you and my best friend are conspiring', Carol retorted.   
  
'I didn't want any part of that, I swear'.   
  
'But you knew someone was going to tell?'   
  
'I thought you did too!' Therese exclaimed. 'I assumed either Abby or Gen spoke to you about their little sting'.   
  
'Well, they didn't!' Carol cried. 'It would have been nice for one of you to give me a warning. Now I'm stuck in the apartment with paparazzi camped out in front of the building'.  
  
Therese frowned. 'How did they find the apartment?'   
  
'I don't know', Carol sighed angrily. 'Another tip-off, probably. You see? This is why I have to be so careful, and even now, I'm not careful enough! People who claim to be my friends, waiting to stab me in the back!'  
  
'I know', Therese sympathised. 'It's horrible'.  
  
'I'm going to have a spotlight on me for weeks now', Carol continued ranting. 'Therese, we have to be so careful. If anyone suspects anything. . .'  
  
'Yeah, okay', she sighed.   
  
'You don't seem to be taking this very seriously'.   
  
'Well, maybe that's because I'm not as serious as you are, Carol. Why does it matter if people suspect us? They know you're not married anymore'.   
  
'They can't know about us, Therese'.  
  
'Why not? Would that really be the worst thing in the world?'   
  
'Oh, I see', Carol snapped. 'Now Harge is out of the picture, you think you can step up and cash in on all the media attention!'   
  
Therese gasped. 'That's not true and you know it!'   
  
She heard Carol sigh. 'You're right', she conceded. 'I'm sorry'.  
  
But Therese had no intention of slowing down. 'You don't trust me, do you?' she cried. 'You don't want to be associated with me. You don't let me too close'.  
  
'Are you kidding me? I've opened up more with you than with anyone else!'  
  
'Then why did Abby tell me there's something you're hiding from me?'  
  
Carol faltered. 'What did she say to you?' she asked, unable to hide the panic in her voice.  
  
'She didn't tell me what it is. And I'm guessing you're not going to either'.   
  
'It isn't about you', Carol said flatly.  
  
'No, I guess it isn't, because it's always all about _you_ ', Therese retorted. 'I want you, Carol. But I never asked for any of this. You need to decide what you want from me'.   
  
Therese hung up, and threw her phone down forcefully. Then she sank back into the couch, held her hands up over her eyes, and, for the first time, she cried over Carol.   
  



	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little treat for your Monday, I hope. Also, I'm changing this from 18 chapters to 20. Lucky me!

It was almost three o'clock on a Friday afternoon, which was still morning to people like Therese and Dannie, who closed the bar far more often than they opened it. Night work was tough sometimes, especially in a bar, when they were working hard while everyone else was out drinking with their friends and significant others. But the bar staff were Therese's family, and it could be oddly peaceful after dark, even in a city as chaotic as New York. And she always enjoyed these late morning-afters, drinking coffee in her apartment with whoever else was on the closing shift. Today, Dannie was here. He hadn't been working the past few days, and so he and Therese had a lot of catching up to do.   
  
Therese was still in her pyjamas, sat cross-legged on the couch, staring absently at nothing as Dannie waited for the coffee to stew in the French press. He leaned against the kitchen counter, arms folded, watching Therese in her distant daze.  
  
'Dude, you're so out of it', he remarked.  
  
Therese looked at him, eyes still sleepy.   
  
'I can't stop thinking about her', she said dreamily.  
  
'But you won't pick up the phone when she calls?'  
  
Therese shrugged. 'I just know she's gonna tell me it's over. Maybe I'm just putting off the inevitable, but I don't wanna hear it'.  
  
'You keep saying that, like you're so certain'. He turned away from her for a moment to pour the strong, dark coffee into two mugs.  
  
'Well, we haven't spoken since I hung up on her and told her she needed to figure out what she really wanted'.  
  
'And you're sure what she wants is to break up with you?'  
  
'I don't know if that's what she _wants_ , but it might be what she _needs_. I hope it's not. I just think I'm not worth the effort for her'.  
  
Dannie came over and handed her one of the mugs of coffee, and sat down beside her on the couch. 'Has she ever said or done anything that made you think that?' he asked, one eyebrow raised.  
  
'No', Therese admitted.  
  
'Then it's all in your head', Dannie said, like it was obvious.  
  
Therese took a sip of her coffee. 'I know I make her happy. But I'm scared it's not enough. It's just the worst timing. And now I've told her to go away and think about what she wants, I've just encouraged her to realise that she can't do this right now, whatever _this_ is. I've ruined my own chances'.  
  
'Not necessarily', Dannie shrugged. 'She might just be thinking about the next step. You don't know, 'cause you haven't answered any of her calls'.  
  
Therese sighed. 'I'm so stuck on her, Dannie'.  
  
'I know', he deadpanned. 'We all do'.  
  
'But I feel like I'm dealing with two different people here. There's _my_ Carol, who's warm and funny and caring. Then there's Carol Aird. I feel like I dont know her at all. I'm not allowed into that part of her life. We can be ourselves, but only behind closed doors'.  
  
'But isn't it easier for you to stay out of the public eye?'  
  
'Of course it's easier, but it just . . . it doesn't feel right. I'm not asking her to announce me to the world, but a little acknowledgement would be nice. It's like I'm her dirty little secret. Now everyone knows she's not with Harge anymore, but it's still out of the question that anyone besides her closest friends can know that we're dating?'   
  
Dannie thought for a moment. 'It must be hard for her to navigate it', he mused. 'She's been married to a rich Manhattan guy for the whole time she's been a star, and they have a really cute kid together, and everyone celebrates that because they look like a happy, traditional, prosperous family. It doesn't matter that you might make her happier than he ever did, because people will judge her for it'.   
  
She threw a hand up in despair. 'So she gets to pretend I don't exist because it's more convenient for her?'   
  
'I'm not saying she's right, Tee', he said, defending himself. 'I'm just saying how she might be feeling'.   
  
The loud buzz of Therese's phone startled them both. She picked it up off the coffee table.   
  
'It's Phil', she told Dannie, hitting the answer button and holding the phone up to her ear.   
  
'Hey'.   
  
'Hey, Tee! You better get down to the bar. Carol's here'.   
  
Therese's eyes widened. 'What?'   
  
'She's here, she's looking for you!' he said urgently.   
  
'Well, what's she doing right now? Have you just left her?'   
  
'Nah, she's fine, she's talking to Mirai'.  
  
'Okay, I'll be there in ten minutes'. She almost hung up, before realising she was still in her pyjamas. 'Actually, make that twenty. And close the bar!'   
  
'I already did!'   
  


* * *

  
  
And he had. Therese and Dannie flung open the doors to McElroy's, noticing the 'closed' sign that hung in the glass pane.  
  
Four figures turned to them, startled, as the door crashed against the wall, disturbing the calm, quiet of the room, an atmosphere that was extremely unusual on a Friday afternoon, when anyone and everyone who knocked off early came in to start their weekends with a few drinks.   
  
José, Mirai and Phil were gathered behind the bar, in front of Carol, who was sitting on a barstool, one leg crossed over the other, one hand wrapped around a glass bottle of Coca-Cola.   
  
No one said anything, though the three bartenders appeared to be having a conversation with their eyes, shooting each other awkward, questioning glances.   
  
José finally spoke. 'We're gonna leave you guys'.   
  
Prompted, the three of them hurried out from behind the bar and towards where Therese and Dannie still stood in the doorway. Therese stepped aside as her friends filtered out, Mirai grabbing Dannie's arm and pulling him along with her.   
  
'Please don't be too long, Tee, we're losing business here', Phil whispered to her as he passed.   
  
'Yeah, whatever, thanks', she muttered back.   
  
The door closed behind her, leaving her alone in the silence with Carol, who was still looking at her nervously. Therese went over, but instead of sitting with her, she sauntered behind the bar and stopped in front of Carol, leaning her hips against the back counter. She felt more at home behind the bar, she supposed. It was as if the counter between them provided a barrier of protection. Protection from what, she didn't know, because when she looked at Carol's eyes, she didn't see resentment or bitterness or anger. All she saw was sadness. Her sad eyes. She hated that she knew them so well.   
  
Carol looked tired, dark circles beneath her eyes, her skin pale and lifeless. Therese felt awful, then, thinking about how hard she'd been on her, snapping at her down the phone and then refusing to answer her calls. She felt compelled to go to her, wrap her arms around her, let herself be a human shield under which Carol could take shelter.   
  
But she didn't. She couldn't allow herself to be distracted, not yet. She had some answers to find.   
  
'Did you speak to Jeanette?' she asked.   
  
Carol shook her head. 'Abby handled it all. You knew even before I did'.   
  
'It's really shitty of her to use you like this'.   
  
Carol shrugged. 'Well, it's the risk I run, keeping people close to me. This just proves it'.   
  
_I know it's a risk_ , Therese thought, irritated. _Not a day goes by I'm not reminded of that_.   
  
She looked at the floor, not saying anything. She was through with conversations like this. She knew how things had to be, she didn't need to keep discussing it with Carol and her friends every time she saw them. She was sick of the rules being constantly reiterated to her, as if she were an irresponsible child who didn't know any better.   
  
Carol continued to watch her until she realised no response was coming. Then she sighed. 'But I can't shut everyone out. And I don't want to shut _you_ out'.   
  
'If it's just us, or just us and Rindy, I don't feel shut out. But this celebrity bullshit is really getting to me, because I don't know where I stand with you. Whatever this is between us gets realer every day. At least, it does for me'.  
  
'It does for me too', Carol assured her.  
  
Therese shrugged. 'You say that now, but then you keep on insisting that no one can find out about us, like you're embarrassed of me. Like you don't trust that I can handle it'. She looked down at the floor. 'I just feel like I'm a mistake you're trying not to make'.   
  
She saw a regret running deep in Carol's eyes, which were as watery as she'd ever seen them, tears threatening to spill over into her lower lashes. 'You're not a mistake, angel', she promised. 'You're so far from that. But I've made mistakes, in my life. Some are coming back to bite me now'.  
  
Fear trickled through Therese's body like the dull drip of water off an ice cube as it melts.  
  
'Abby said there was something you weren't telling me', Therese said, trying to keep her voice level. 'The real reason you and Harge got divorced. I'd like to know what it is'.   
  
'I think you'll hate me if I tell you'.  
  
Therese folded her arms. 'Try me', she said, with all the confidence she could muster.  
  
Carol looked away. 'Harge and I had drifted apart a long time ago, but we were holding it together', she explained, voice shaky. Then she looked back at Therese, straight into her eyes, as if she was facing up to her guilt. 'But I did something stupid. I cheated'.  
  
Therese froze, her blood running cold. 'You cheated?' she repeated stupidly.  
  
Carol nodded. 'That was the final straw. That's the reason Harge filed for divorce'.  
  
'. . . Oh', was all she could think to say.  
  
So Carol was a cheater. She hadn't expected it. Sure, Carol's marriage had been doomed even before her infidelity, but still, it concerned Therese that she was capable of betraying Harge's trust like that. That she was capable of betraying _anyone's_ trust like that.   
  
'You must think I'm a horrible person', Carol said shamefully.   
  
Therese sighed, running a hand through her hair in frustration. 'I don't, I'm just . . . confused, I guess'.  
  
'I was confused too', Carol admitted. 'That's why I did it. I totally spiralled out of control. My marriage had gotten to a point where I was feeling so isolated, like no one wanted me, like I wasn't worth anything to anyone. Everyone wanted Carol Aird, the celebrity, but in reality, even my own husband couldn't be bothered with me anymore'. She looked away. 'So I slept with someone else'.  
  
 _Carol Aird, the celebrity_. It was always all about her, Therese thought. It wasn't surprising that Carol often seemed dangerously close to getting swallowed up by this other persona, both powerful and fragile simultaneously, and always under attack, even by the people Carol called her friends.  
  
'Jeanette knows', Therese stated the obvious.  
  
'Yes'.  
  
'Everything?'  
  
'Yes'.  
  
Therese frowned. 'How? Abby said you don't talk about it with anyone'.  
  
' _I_ didn't tell her'.  
  
'Then who did?'  
  
'The woman I slept with is a friend of Jeanette's'. Carol shifted uncomfortably. 'Actually, she's a friend of yours too'.  
  
Therese gaped at her. It only took a moment for her to connect the dots, it wasn't at all difficult. She and Carol didn't share many mutual friends. 

She felt sick.   
  
'It was Gen. You cheated with Gen'.   
  
Carol nodded solemnly.   
  
'Are you fucking kidding me, Carol?' Therese blurted out. 'Any more of your best friends you've slept with?'   
  
'It was just a stupid thing that happened, it didn't mean anything!' Carol said desperately. 'You know how Gen is, she's so practical about everything! So emotionally unattached. That's what I needed. No questions asked, no mention of it again. And that's how it was'.   
  
'Was it an affair, or a one-night-stand, or what?'   
  
'It happened a few times. Then Harge found out'.  
  
'How?'  
  
'I told him. It was horrible, to be honest. _I_ was horrible. I was drunk. I was drinking a lot, back then, so much that it was becoming a problem. We had a huge fight, and I wanted to hurt him, so I told him. He was mortified. And the fact that it was with Gen just twisted the knife'.   
  
'Why? Because he knows her too?'   
  
Carol shook her head. 'He just hates the thought of me being with another woman'.   
  
'Maybe he shouldn't have married a bisexual, then', Therese muttered.   
  
Carol laughed humourlessly. 'But we were in love', she said, voice heavy with nostalgia. 'We thought we'd be together forever. I was so stupid'.   
  
Therese's mind was drifting elsewhere as Carol's revelations sunk further into her mind. The older woman wasn't the only one feeling stupid.   
  
'I've been talking to Gen all this time, totally oblivious', she thought aloud, shaking her head in disbelief.   
  
Carol tilted her head to one side. 'Well, would you talk to her differently, if you'd known before?' she asked.   
  
Therese was at a loss for an answer. 'I guess so', she said uncertainly, her voice high, as though it was a question rather than a statement. 'It's just . . . well, it's awkward!'  
  
'It's not awkward for us', Carol assured her. 'Like I said, no questions asked, no mention of it again. We just moved on'.   
  
'And you're really over her?'   
  
'Therese, there's nothing to get over! Genevieve and I aren't in love, we barely even like each other! I trust her, and she was there for me that one time I went off the rails. We're friends. Nothing more. There'll never be anything more'.  
  
'Then why didn't you tell me?'   
  
'I didn't tell anyone. If this information gets into the wrong hands, everything I've worked for goes up in smoke'.  
  
Therese nodded in understanding. Carol was right, she supposed. The media crucified women who cheated. She'd seen it before, when other female celebrities had been unfaithful to their partners. Women were called whores and sluts, forced to pull out of projects, where a man could cheat and walk away with his image and career intact.   
  
Carol put her head in her hands. 'And it would be ten times worse if they knew I was with a woman', she said flatly. 'It would be all I'd be known for. I'd struggle to get work. It would ruin everything'.   
  
Therese raised an eyebrow. 'You think being out of the closet is gonna ruin your career?'   
  
Carol faltered. 'Well, no, not entirely, but . . .' She threw up her hands in despair. 'I don't know'.   
  
Therese folded her arms. All this time she'd been thinking that she wasn't good enough for Carol, that Carol was embarrassed of her. Only now did it occur to her there might be more to it than that.   
  
'It seems to me like you're ashamed to be queer', she observed, with a smug certainty that made Carol look at her like she'd been caught red-handed. Maybe it was harsh of Therese, to declare it so knowingly, but it seemed to obvious a thing not to call her out on.   
  
Carol shook her head, that look of guilt that had crossed her face vanishing into denial. 'It's not that', Carol deflected. 'Therese, Harge has evidence. When I told him about Gen, I was still sleeping with her. He hired a private investigator to follow us to her gallery. He has photos of us'.   
  
Therese's stomach lurched, another wave of nausea rising within her. 'Jesus, Carol'.   
  
'He's blackmailing me', she said in a matter-of-fact tone that told Therese she'd long accepted it. 'If I keep fighting him in court, he's going to release everything to the press'.  
  
Therese would have been taken aback by Harge's cruelty if it wasn't for Carol's earlier confessions. She would have said that she couldn't believe Harge would do this to her, but, of course, she could. Carol had cheated. He was bound to be angry. Any husband would be.   
  
But Harge wasn't just any husband. His wife was the most famous actress in America, and he knew exactly what it would take to bring her to her knees. He _had_ what it took. Now he was holding it over her, like bait from a fishing rod, until she gave him what he wanted.   
  
'He'll destroy your reputation unless you give him full custody of Rindy', Therese said flatly.   
  
Carol nodded. 'Essentially, he's offering me the chance to back down quietly, or else he exposes me and uses my disgrace as proof that I'm an unfit mother. He's trying to scare me, and, honestly, it's working. But I'm not giving up on Rindy yet, and so I have to be prepared for some kind of attack from Harge. And, angel, if he knows about you, you get caught up in all of this'. Therese could hear the increasing desperation in her voice. 'Gen's already in the firing line. I don't want the same for you'.  
  
Therese reached out and placed a gentle hand on top of Carol's trembling ones. 'You don't have to worry about me', she assured her.   
  
Carol sighed, voice turning wistful. 'Everything is different now. I would have just moved on with my life. I would have wrapped up my filming here and gone back to LA and everything would be finished. But now I have you, and as much as you're figuring out what it means to be with me, I'm still figuring out how I can be with you. Because that's what I want'.  
  
Therese breathed a sigh of relief, an exhaling of all the doubts and fears that had amassed within her like coils of barbed wire in the pit of her stomach since Carol had first asked her out, on the terrace at The Plaza. It seemed so long ago now.   
  
'You have no idea how much I've wanted to hear you say that'.   
  
A smile broke out on Therese's face, which made Carol smile in turn, because it finally seemed as though they had reached some kind of understanding. They wanted the same thing, to be together, and this was the first time Therese could be truly, one hundred percent sure of it.   
  
Carol turned serious again. 'I don't know what I'm doing, or how this is going to work', she confessed. 'It's going to be fucking hard, for both of us. But I need you to trust that I'm trying. And I'll keep on trying. Okay?'   
  
Therese nodded. 'Okay'.   
  



	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in one week what???? I'm going out of town for a few days so posting before I go. Another Genevieve chapter for you all. She really captivated me in the novel, I'm not sure why. It's why I always make her a big character in my stories. There's a whole mystery there we know nothing about.

Watching Dannie look around Genevieve's apartment was like watching a kid in a candy store.   
  
He and Therese definitely stood out; they were the youngest people in the room, their clothes were from thrift stores or H&M, instead of Dior or Prada. They'd probably had more to drink than most other people, not wanting to waste the opportunity of a free bar. But Therese had been here before. She had at least some idea of how to navigate this space. Dannie, on the other hand, was entering a new world.   
  
Today was Abby's birthday, and Gen had decided to throw a party for all Abby's friends at her apartment. Phil called in a favour from Darren over at Waterloo, who sent one of his bartenders to help out at McElroy's, meaning Dannie could have the night off to go with Therese.   
  
The two of them were hovering by the kitchen, swaying lightly to the 90s Britpop that played at a steady volume from speakers behind them. An odd choice for a party full of 40 year old Manhattan elites, but it was very Gen.   
  
Dannie was mesmerised by the huge window at the other end of the room, as Therese had been on her first visit here. She still was. When they arrived tonight, the orange glow of the setting sun had illuminated the room, and now remnants of that light still lingered in the apartment. It was August now, and the days were still long and hot. The city had become a greenhouse of stuffy air and sizzling heat that seemed to radiate from the tarmac and reflect off the windows of skyscrapers, leaving nowhere to escape. But, Therese had to admit, she enjoyed it. She always loved the summer, and was particularly happy with the shimmering golden colour of her lightly tanned skin.   
  
She sipped at her gin and tonic, which had been presented to her beautifully in a big globe glass full of ice and red berries. This was her third. Dannie was on a similar level, with his fourth Jack and coke.  
  
'Is Genevieve single?' he suddenly blurted out.   
  
'I think so', Therese responded. 'Why, you like what you see?'   
  
It was teasing, but there was the slightest undertone of bitterness. She still hadn't spoken to Gen since she found out the truth about her affair with Carol, and Therese was reluctant to acknowledge it, but she was a little jealous.   
  
'Well, yeah. She's hot. But I'm really thinking about the apartment . . .'  
  
'It _is_ incredible', Therese admitted, glad that he was more interested in Gen's wealth than her beauty. _Don't think like that_ , Therese scolded herself, suddenly aware of how mean she was being.   
  
Dannie sighed longingly. 'This might be your new life, Tee'. He gestured to the space around them. 'Penthouse apartments, cocktail parties, celebrity events'.   
  
'Isn't it disgusting?' Therese smirked.   
  
Dannie laughed. 'It's true. We used to hate rich people. Now you're dating one, and we're at another one's party celebrating another one's birthday'.   
  
'Do you think we've been too judgemental, all this time?' Therese wondered aloud.   
  
'Maybe. Probably. We didn't have much money though, did we? We needed someone to resent for it'.   
  
'Yeah, I guess you're right', she murmured, taking another sip of her drink.   
  
She'd spotted Genevieve over by the window, chatting with an older man she didn't know. She was perched on the back of the couch, vodka in hand, facing the window, but at an angle, looking down at him on the seat of the couch. _Why does she have to sit like that?_ Therese thought. _Like she's above him. Like she's above everyone. Why does everyone always look up to her?_  
  
Therese cursed herself again. Learning the truth had changed her opinion more than she thought it would. She thought it wouldn't affect her, that she and Gen could be friends, or at least acquaintances, as they had been before. But Therese knew they had to talk it out, and tonight might just be the right time.   
  
As if her thoughts had been heard, Genevieve's companion left, getting up and heading in the direction of the hall.   
  
_Okay, she's alone. Now's my chance!_  
  
'I have to go talk to Gen', she said abruptly.   
  
'Okay, I'll come with you-'   
  
'No!' Therese rejected.   
  
Dannie frowned. 'Why not?'   
  
'It needs to be just me and her', Therese said determinedly.   
  
'Why are you being so weird? What's so secretive that I'm not allowed to know?'   
  
'Stop interrogating me!' Therese warned him. 'I'll be back soon'.  
  
She stalked off quickly, before Dannie started to ask any more questions.   
  
She stopped in front of the couch. Genevieve was staring out the window, a silhouette all in black, her long dark hair fanned out over her shoulders.   
  
'I know everything', she said indignantly.   
  
Gen turned around at the sound of her voice, though she didn't appear startled. It was as if she had been expecting her. Therese found herself caught in those hypnotising blue eyes.   
  
'Yeah', Gen said flatly. 'I heard'.  
  
Therese looked at her, tried to read her, but she found nothing. Every ounce of determination she'd felt in the build-up already seemed to have melted away. She suddenly doubted even the necessity of talking. But she was here now. She drifted slowly over to the window, and leaned back against it, feeling the cool hardness of the glass against her bare shoulders. She folded her arms.  
  
'I wish you'd told me', she mumbled, like a sulking teenager.   
  
Gen looked at her expectantly. 'Are you angry?' she asked.   
  
'No', Therese sighed. 'I think it's weird'.  
  
'Most people would', Gen shrugged.   
  
'But you don't?'  
  
'No. But then again, people think _I'm_ weird'.  
  
'Why?'  
  
'Because sex is unimportant to me', she explained, like it was obvious. 'I don't see it as intimate or loving. It's just for fun. I don't need it to feel anything'.   
  
Therese frowned. 'You don't _feel_ anything when you have sex?'   
  
'Oh, baby, I don't feel anything ever!' she exclaimed theatrically.   
  
Therese couldn't tell if she was joking or not. She quickly decided that she wasn't.   
  
'That's why you don't have to worry about Carol and I', Gen added.  
  
'I'm not worried', Therese said, half-truthfully.   
  
'You're not even a little bit jealous?'   
  
Therese paused. She knew Genevieve was challenging her, trying to get her to admit that she was threatened by her. _Fuck you, Gen_.  
  
'I just think it's a little strange', she responded, skirting the question. 'That after all that happened, you can still be friends like before'.   
  
'I never saw her as anything more than a friend', Gen explained matter-of-factly. 'Not once did I expect anything to come from our nights together. She just wanted someone, and it happened to be _me_ because she knew there would be no strings attached'.  
  
'You seem to have built up quite the reputation', Therese said snarkily.   
  
'I told you. People think I'm weird. Incapable of love'.   
  
'Well, are you?'   
  
'Not _incapable_. If I was, I wouldn't have any friends'.   
  
'But what about romance?'   
  
'I'm not wired that way, I guess', Gen looked down at her lap. 'It just never happens for me. It _did_ , once. But that was a long time ago. She's long gone'.  
  
Therese noticed, for the first time, a sadness in the older woman, the hint of a past she kept hidden behind that aura of confidence. _Is she actually gonna open up_? she wondered in disbelief.  
  
'Who was she?' Therese asked cautiously.   
  
Gen looked up, straight past Therese and out of the window, her gaze distant and dreamy. 'Allegra', she said, the ghost of a smile on her lips at the mention of the name.   
  
'Is she the girl in the photograph, on your bedside table?' Therese asked, remembering the framed picture of the young girl at Tower Bridge. She sometimes thought of her, of who she might be. It just made her realise she knew absolutely nothing about Genevieve. She was still a mystery.   
  
Gen nodded.  
  
'Where is she now?' Therese asked.   
  
Gen looked at her, sucked out of her dream-state. 'She died'.   
  
Therese felt as though the breath had been knocked out of her. 'How?' she asked tentatively.   
  
'Car accident. She was 20'.  
  
'I'm sorry'.   
  
Gen smiled sadly. 'That's life'.  
  
'What was she like?'  
  
'Beautiful', she recalled fondly. 'Wickedly smart, with a rebellious streak. She was Italian. Her father had sent her to an English boarding school in the hopes that she'd become a real lady. That's where we met, at 15 years old. All the girls at school idolised her, but she wasn't like them, and neither was I. We weren't going to follow the paths that our upper-class parents had laid out for us. We wanted more'.  
  
'What happened?'  
  
'Nothing'. Her voice had turned quiet, wistful. 'I think I'd always known I was in love with her, but she was gone before I had the chance to tell her. The worst part of it all is that I'm pretty sure she was in love with me too'.  
  
She looked up at Therese, with a sad smile on her lips, one that seemed aged with years of regret, of clinging to a tragic part of the past. It made Therese feel like crying.   
  
'Do you think you would have been together, if she lived?' she asked gently.   
  
'I don't know, honestly', Gen sighed. 'Relationships make me miserable, that's why I don't engage in them. I loved Allegra, but I don't know if we could have made it work. Maybe it would have ended horribly. At least now I never have to find out'.  
  
She took a large swig of vodka, swallowing it without flinching, like it was water.   
  
Therese tried not to react. 'Yeah. I guess so', she murmured.   
  
'Don't look at me like that', Gen snapped suddenly.   
  
'Like what?'   
  
'Like you feel sorry for me'.   
  
Therese held up her hands defensively. 'I do, though', she protested. 'You know, it's okay to have people feel sorry for you sometimes. Don't you ever give yourself a break?'   
  
Gen shook her head. 'No, never'. She smiled then, softening as she noticed the concern in Therese's expression. 'Baby, it's fine', she promised. 'That was 20 years ago. I'm happier here, now. Apart from Allegra, my life in London was . . . chaotic. I left everything behind'.   
  
'Do you not have any family or anything?' Therese questioned.   
  
'No', she said, before correcting herself. 'Well. It's complicated. My mother died when I was four years old. My father took that as an excuse to go back to living the bachelor lifestyle. He neglected me. I got used to seeing random women around the house, and dealing with his outbursts of rage and violence. And then he shipped me off to boarding school the first chance he got. After that, I enrolled in university. I lived in a student flat. I got a job in a bar, just to piss him off. I was making new friends. Life was good, for a while'. Her face turned dark. 'But then Allegra died, and I fell to pieces. I got angry. I started sleeping around, I got mixed up with drugs. I lost my job, I dropped out of university. I alienated everyone around me. I'd become my father, and he hated what he saw. He was going to cut me off. So I took every penny he ever gave me and ran off to New York before he could ask for any of it back'. She smiled smugly at the thought.   
  
Therese saw that it was a victory for her, to escape her father and her home and move to an entirely new city. She imagined it was freeing, when Genevieve thought about the great, wide ocean that separated her present from the past.   
  
'Have you spoken to him since?' Therese asked.   
  
'No. I don't think he even knows I'm here'. She shrugged. 'But I'm done. Our whole relationship was a sham. I can't blame him, I suppose. He was just like his father, and his father before him. And the cycle continues'. She took another healthy swig of vodka. 'I'm not having any children', she said bitterly. 'I want this fucked up family to die with me'.  
  
Therese recognised now where this hard exterior had come from. She understood that Gen believed she had some twisted destiny, one that was taught to her in childhood. It hurt Therese to see it, because she knew her own life would have turned out very differently if she had believed the same thing. She could have turned out like her own parents, but she'd soon learned that nurture was stronger than nature, and that chosen family was as real as any biological one. Maybe that was something Genevieve still needed to figure out.   
  
'Let it', Therese encouraged. 'We've got your back'.   
  
Genevieve shot her a grateful smile. It was a truce. They both knew it.   
  
'No more secrets', she promised.   
  
'Then we're good', Therese assured her. 'Thanks for being real with me'.   
  
'Don't get used to it', Gen retorted.   
  
Therese laughed. She knew well enough that this kind of conversation with Genevieve was rare. But she promised herself she wouldn't forget it.   
  


* * *

  
The cool night air caressed Therese's face as she swung one leg over the windowsill, then the other, ducking under the raised windowpane. The sounds of sirens and car horns from the labyrinthine streets below were the only music out here.  
  
Carol was sat back against the wall, legs outstretched, moonlight shining off her golden hair and pale blue silk shirt.   
  
'Hi, angel', she said serenely as Therese approached.   
  
'I thought I might find you up here', Therese said, sitting down beside her, feeling her warmth as their arms touched. It sent tiny shockwaves through her body. 'Are you okay?'   
  
'Just getting some air. What have you been doing? Is Dannie having fun?'   
  
'Yeah, he is'. The last time she saw him, he was laughing about something with Abby. 'I was just talking to Gen, actually'.   
  
'Oh yeah?'   
  
'She told me about Allegra', Therese said, still somewhat disbelieving.   
  
Carol raised an eyebrow. 'She did? Wow. You should be honoured. She never tells anyone about Allegra'.  
  
'Yeah, I get that feeling', she deadpanned.   
  
Carol shrugged. 'It's hard for Gen. She never had a real family, and she never really found a chosen one either'.  
  
'But she has you, and Abby', Therese reminded her. 'Anyway, I thought she has a ton of friends?'   
  
'Yes, but it took us a long time to get to where we are now. And she _does_ have a lot of friends, but they're not exactly close. I don't think many people know a thing about her. She keeps this guard up all the time, this performance. I think she lost who she really is a long time ago, and she doesn't even remember how to get back'.  
  
'That's sad', Therese said flatly.   
  
'It is. I guess we saw something of ourselves in each other, when we first became friends. We were both used to supporting our own wishes and making our own choices, because our parents had other plans that we didn't agree with'.  
  
Therese looked out over the never-ending grid of towering buildings from their perch in the sky. Where were her own parents now? Were they still here, dwelling in this concrete jungle? It was the same city Therese had always lived in, and yet, she felt a million miles away from the places where she grew up, and the dirty apartment where she was born.   
  
'When I was little, my heart would break every day when I saw my classmates with their parents, knowing mine had abandoned me', she remembered. 'When I got a little older, that pain turned to resentment. I was an angry kid. But my parents were angry too. My neighbours said they used to scream all hours of the day and night, throwing things at each other, hitting each other. My life might have been even worse if they raised me.   
  
'It was only when I was in high school that I started to realise I had a chance that some other people don't. I had total freedom. No one was telling me to do anything, no one was trying to persuade me this way or that. My life was difficult, but I thought it was difficult for people like you, too. How can a parent raise their child and then disown them or disapprove of the person they become? At least I never had to worry about anything like that'.   
  
Carol was quiet for a moment, looking at her thoughtfully. 'You said you thought I was ashamed, to be bisexual', she recalled.   
  
'I'm sorry I said that'.   
  
'No, I was going to say you were right', Carol admitted. 'I guess I am ashamed. There are a number of reasons why my parents and I don't have a relationship, and my sexuality is one of them. They said there must be something wrong with me. And then I married Harge, and he taught me to suppress that side of myself, too embarrassed at the thought of his wife being attracted to other women'. She looked down at her lap. 'When you're constantly hearing the people who are supposed to love and accept you call you unnatural, or make you feel like you're letting them down, it gets to you. It sinks in'.  
  
And it had sunk in. Therese understood now why Harge's threats were so terrifying to her, why she hadn't come out years ago, on her own terms. Why that sadness in her eyes was so deep it seemed to reach all the way down to her very soul, dulled with the long, slow torture of self-loathing. Because all her life she'd been conditioned to hate who she was. Harge had played a large part in that, and now he was reaping his reward.   
  
'That's why you're so afraid of him', Therese realised. 'Of him holding all this over you'.   
  
Carol nodded. 'I'd be able to make it to the other side with my career somewhat intact, I know that. But I don't know if I'm strong enough to handle it. I've spent years at war with myself, Therese, at war with my family, with Harge. I still haven't won'.  
  
This was the first time Therese had realised the extent of Carol's rejection by her family. She'd never been so open about it before. Had her parents really implied that there might be something wrong with her, simply because of who she was attracted to? Therese could barely believe it. When she started dating women, all she had to do was casually drop it into conversation with her friends. _I've met someone, no, she's a she_. It was easy, because she knew her friends would accept her no matter what.   
  
So where were Carol's friends, when she needed them?   
  
'Where was Abby in all this?' Therese asked.   
  
'She was there', Carol confirmed, 'like always, reminding me not to forget the truth about who I was. I should have listened to her, but I just thought it was so easy for her to say. Abby has the most incredible, supportive family, her parents and two older brothers and a younger sister. Not one of them batted an eye when she told them she was gay. My situation wasn't like that. And I never had that chosen family, like you have. Like Dannie, and Phil, and the others'. Carol turned to her. 'You're so lucky to have them'.   
  
'I know', Therese smiled at the thought. 'I don't know where I'd be without them'.  
  
'Sometimes I think if I'd have found a family for myself, one who stuck by me and taught me to love who I was, then things would be different now'.   
  
'What would you want to be different?'   
  
Carol thought for a moment. 'I'd want my public and private self to be the same person', she decided finally. 'Or closer to each other, at least. I was still so young when I took off to Hollywood. I didn't have a clear sense of self. So I put all my faith in Harge. I think I let him define me, in the eyes of other people. Then I got famous, and suddenly everyone wanted to be my friend. But it was the loneliest I've ever felt. They wanted the rich celebrity version of me, but they didn't see the real me at all'.  
  
Therese slipped her hand into Carol's. 'I see you', she promised.   
  
Carol smiled at her, blue-grey eyes sparkling. 'I know you do. When it's just you and me, it's the closest I come to forgetting everything else'.  
  
Therese understood exactly what she meant. Had it really only been three months since they had met? Only three months since their worlds collided in the most accidental of ways, and, yet, against all odds, they had forged their own world, together, in amongst the chaos?  
  
'I feel it too', Therese assured her.   
  
There was a tension in the air, one that hung between them, dangling the suggestion of something more to be said. Therese thought she might tell Carol that she was in love with her. But it was Carol that spoke first.   
  
'I was thinking of going away', she said. 'Just a few days, maybe a week. I was hoping you'd come with me'.  
  
'Of course', Therese answered without hesitation.   
  
She didn't have to ask where, or why. She just knew she would follow her anywhere.   
  



	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time for a vacation! I know Seville very well and it's for sure one of the most beautiful cities in the world. I got inspired to write a little Spanish chapter since this weekend I'm moving back there for a few months.

_You'll find in time,_

  
_All the answers that you seek,_

  
_Have been sitting there just waiting to be seen_

  
  
Therese had never been out of the USA. In fact, she'd barely even been out of the tri-state area. She knew travel broadened the mind, and she knew it would undoubtedly inspire her photography. The intricacies of European architecture, the vibrant colours of Latin America. But, like always, money was the problem. She'd never been able to afford a real vacation.   
  
Until now. Technically, she still wasn't able to afford it, but Carol had paid for everything, despite Therese's complaints that it was too much. And then, there had been the problem of getting the time off work. In Carol's current project, she was a supporting cast member, and so taking off for a week wasn't a problem. As for Therese, it wasn't so easy. Mirai was also on vacation, and so Phil really needed her at the bar. Carol joked that she'd put Genevieve in to work at McElroy's for the week, what with her prevouis experience as a bartender. It didn't matter though. Phil called her and told her to go have fun.   
  
When Carol said she wanted to leave New York, Therese had assumed they would take a quiet road trip, perhaps north, to Massachusetts, or Maine, or even to Canada. Instead, she found herself in first class on a flight across the Atlantic.   
  
New York had been unusually hot all summer, but that was nothing compared to the southern Spanish air that enveloped her as soon as she stepped off the airplane earlier in the day, and had clung to her ever since. It was like sinking into a warm bath, like trying to breathe in that blast of hot air from a hair dryer.   
  
'Okay, I'll admit that Seville in August was a bad idea', Carol said, wafting the black lace fan she'd just bought. Therese had gotten one too, but hers was red. She'd thought at first to have a fan was just a gimmick for tourists, but as it turned out, it wasn't uncommon to see elderly Spanish women, stretched out on benches or at café tables, brandishing a fan in an attempt to keep cool.   
  
They were sitting outside at a bar in the busy Triana quarter of the city. It was four o'clock in the afternoon, and Seville had woken up from its siesta, but the sun was still beating down mercilessly.  
  
'I don't think I've ever been this hot before', Therese said, gathering up her hair off the back of her neck. Her whole body was slick with sweat.   
  
'No, you haven't', Carol winked at her.   
  
Therese blushed.   
  
A waiter approached them with a loud 'Hola!' Therese struggled to grasp how he hadn't burned alive yet, in his long-sleeved black shirt.   
  
'Hola', Carol smiled. 'Dos cafés con leche con hielo, por favor'.   
  
'Sí, señora', he nodded, leaving as quickly as he'd arrived.   
  
Therese blinked. 'You speak Spanish?'   
  
'No, I wish', Carol waved a hand dismissively. 'Just a few sentences I picked up last time I was here'.   
  
'When was last time?'   
  
Carol thought for a moment, running the timings through her head. 'In Spain, two years ago, but I was in Valencia. In Seville, 10 years ago'.   
  
'10? But you seem to know it so well'.   
  
'It hasn't changed a bit', Carol said happily. 'But I did live here for two months, when we shot _El Rinconcillo_. I got pretty well acquainted with the city'.  
  
Therese nodded. She knew _El Rinconcillo,_ she had seen it just a couple of years ago. Therese remembered seeing Carol, and the humour that came from her appearance; one of two Americans in the film, pale, blonde, and blue-eyed against the golden skin, dark hair and warm brown eyes of her Spanish co-stars.  
  
She looked just as out of place now. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, her face partially hidden by enormous Prada sunglasses. A hint of pink was already flourishing on her cheeks, despite the sun cream she'd massaged into them earlier.   
  
Therese leaned down to rummage around in her bag for the little bottle of sun cream she'd brought out with her. She passed it across the table to Carol.   
  
'What?' Carol frowned. 'Does my face look burned?'   
  
'A little'.   
  
Carol squeezed out a couple of drops of the creamy liquid onto her fingertips, and started rubbing it gently into her skin.   
  
The waiter arrived with their coffees and ice. He gave Carol a strange look as he took each glass from the tray and put them down on the table.  
  
'Gracias', Carol thanked him, a little white smear still lingering just below her sunglasses on her left cheek.   
  
Therese laughed as he walked away again. She reached across the table and ran her thumb along Carol's cheek, wiping away the last of the sun cream.   
  
'Thanks', Carol said. 'I think this is gonna hurt later'.   
  
'You're not burned, you're just pink', Therese teased her. 'You're so cute. Like a little porcelain doll'.   
  
'Shut up', Carol said playfully.   
  
She watched as Therese expertly poured the small glass of strong coffee into the glass of ice in one swift motion. The ice made a satisfying cracking sound as the hot liquid hit it.   
  
'Nicely done', Carol complimented.   
  
'Carol, I'm a bartender', she reminded her. 'I literally get paid to pour drinks'.   
  
'Fair point', Carol acknowledged. She did the same with her own coffee, without nearly as much finesse. Therese laughed as huge droplets splashed up the side of the glass and onto the table.   
  


* * *

  
  
Seville was a magical place. There were so many things to see, to do, to eat, but even just enjoying a coffee and _tostada_ in the warm mornings felt impossibly special.   
  
The pedestrian streets wove an uneven grid, narrow, with tall apartment buildings stretching above them, providing an oasis of cool where the sun couldn't reach them. The buildings were yellow and orange and pink in colour, Spanish flags and overflowing flower pots hanging over the thin iron rails of balconies. They wandered through, window shopping, Carol telling Therese stories of the time she spent here, and the laid-back lifestyle she had enjoyed. It had been a welcome break from LA, and the fulfilment of a lifelong dream to live somewhere in southern Europe, she said.   
  
In the Plaza de España, they hired a rowing boat and gently cruised along the small, man-made river that ran in a semi-circle along the grand building. In the Real Alcázar, they wandered through vibrant gardens of flowers and orange trees, the soothing sound of water trickling through fountains and tiny streams filling the air. They climbed to the top of La Giralda, the cathedral's bell tower, where they were met with a breathtaking view of the city.   
  
Therese photographed Carol wherever they went. Her camera was an extension of herself, another eye she saw through. And she only had eyes for Carol. But Carol soon got bored of being the subject all the time, and so Therese showed her how to use her camera, teaching her which setting to use to get the best results. She watched with pride as Carol, who'd spent almost half her life in front of the camera, quickly learned how to work behind it. Therese herself was usually a nervous model, making any excuse not to be in front of the camera, but the pictures Carol took of her were admittedly beautiful. They made her _feel_ beautiful, just knowing that was the way Carol saw her.   
  
Therese spoke what little Spanish she knew with waiters, bartenders and shop assistants they met at bodegas and little gift stores, secretly proud of how much it impressed Carol. Therese didn't speak the language, not really, but José at McElroy's had taught her the essentials over the years of their friendship, and she always tried to speak Spanish with his family when she visited their house in Brooklyn.   
  
The Spanish ate late, and spent long evenings sat at the outdoor seating areas of quaint tapas bars, relaxing, conversing, drinking as the sky darkened and the temperature finally dropped to a bearable cool. Therese found it difficult not to get carried away. Wine was cheap, beer was cheap, and, before they knew it, it was after midnight, not that the lively streets would suggest it. Therese's whole body felt warm and fuzzy, the edges of her vision blurring slightly. Sitting there, with Carol opposite her, smiling at her, making her laugh, Therese felt she might explode with happiness.   
  
And magical days turned into magical nights. The first night in the hotel was the first night they had spent together, sleeping next to each other, making love in the early hours of the morning.   
  
It was gentle, at first, Therese straddling Carol, still clothed, her hands on Carol's wrists, pinning her to the bed as she kissed her, but soon, her kisses grew hungrier, more passionate, as she trailed down Carol's neck, along her collarbones. Soon their clothes were strewn in a pile on the floor, and Therese was rolled over onto her back as Carol took control, exploring every inch of Therese's body with her lips, tongue, fingers, taking her to new heights, making her moan in ecstasy until the wave of orgasm crashed over her, left her shaking. She swore she could see stars. Then it was Carol's turn to surrender herself to Therese, who was in heaven at the sound of Carol crying out her name.   
  
During the nights, watching Carol sleep soundlessly beside her, naked, Therese couldn't even find the words to describe her beauty. Hers was the kind of body the artists of ancient civilisations would want to sculpt in marble, to paint on the walls of grand palaces, would later hang in museums. She was perfect.   
  
Therese felt like crying, or screaming at the top of her lungs, or tearing her hair out. Something, anything, to release some of this feeling that filled her up, expanded within her, threatened to rip her open. This was love.   
  
As Therese struggled to sleep, her head reeling with all the possibilities that laid before her, the same happened to Carol in the mornings. On the third day, Therese found her on the balcony, dressed only in a loose shirt and underwear, watching the city spring to life in the streets below, like a queen surveying her kingdom.   
  
Therese partially dressed and went to her, relishing the cool morning air on her skin. Her arms circled Carol's waist, hugging her from behind.   
  
'I didn't mean to wake you, angel', Carol said apologetically.   
  
'You didn't. How long have you been out here?'   
  
'Not long'.   
  
'What are you thinking about?'   
  
'You'.   
  
Therese smiled into the back of her shoulder. 'What about me?' she asked flirtatiously.  
  
Carol turned around, brushing a strand of Therese's dark, wavy hair behind her ear.   
  
'About how beautiful you are', she said, eyes sparkling with lust. 'And how beautiful your body is. And how much I'd like to see it again'.   
  
Therese flashed a smug smile at her. 'Your wish is my command', she said. Then she stepped back into the hotel room and pulled her shirt off over her head, tossing it to the floor, and heading towards the bathroom for a shower.   
  
Carol followed.   
  


* * *

  
Carol wasn't only affectionate in the privacy of their hotel room. There, in their little sanctuary, they could barely keep their hands off each other. But the feeling of anonymity that comes with losing yourself in the streets of a new city, in a new country, seemed to set Carol free. Of course, she was internationally famous, but who would expect to see her here? Despite the occasional interaction with a bewildered fan, it felt like no one in Seville knew who she was.   
  
So, finally, Therese was able to do what she had wanted to do since those first dates: she was able to hold Carol's hand. Wherever she wanted, whenever she wanted. She treasured the feeling, every time she reached out and intertwined her fingers with Carol's, felt her soft skin against her own. And that wasn't all. They'd be standing in line for tickets for entry to the cathedral, and she'd find Carol's arms around her waist, hugging her from behind. They'd be sitting on the long benches at La Carbonería, watching a dark-haired woman with flowers in her hair dance flamenco, and Carol would have one hand on her thigh, squeezing it gently. Therese promised herself she wouldn't take any of it for granted.  
  
Carol was different here, but not only in her everyday affections. She seemed looser, more spontaneous, less anxious. It seemed they were a world away from New York, and Harge, and Genevieve, and the paparazzi that waited outside Carol's apartment building like vultures hovering over a carcass.   
  
That was perhaps why, on their last day in Seville, Therese felt melancholic. Everything she saw, everything she smelt, ate, drank, every time Carol smiled at her, it all just made her want to cry. She knew their brief adventure had come to an end, and everything would soon be as it was before. She'd go back to being Carol's secret, only this time, the prospect felt even worse, because now she'd seen what they could be when they were allowed to forget about other people.   
  
Therese decided to bring it up, before they left, and she lost the courage. Tomorrow morning they would barely have time for breakfast before they needed to take a taxi to the airport. They were sat outside at a busy bar on an otherwise quiet street, just a block away from the Setas, a set of strange grey sculptures that could be climbed to reveal a beautiful sunset view of the city. Their last meal was tapas: small dishes of spinach croquettes, _patatas bravas_ , marinated peppers, and calamari.   
  
'You seem made for this life, Carol', she said carefully, nursing a cold glass of white wine.  
  
Carol smiled. 'You think so?'  
  
Therese nodded. 'You're not wound so tight here'.  
  
'Well, of course not, because it's not real', Carol chuckled. 'It's a vacation'.  
  
'But it's more than that', Therese pressed. 'A vacation is an escape for everyone. For you, it's anonymity'.  
  
'True', Carol acknowledged.  
  
'And you like the anonymity'.  
  
'Also true'.  
  
'But if you were offered that anonymity forever, you wouldn't accept it'.  
  
Carol frowned. 'What do you mean?'  
  
Therese didn't exactly know where she was going with this, but she pushed on nevertheless. 'You always say you never wanted to be _this_ famous, but your star just keeps on rising and rising', she mused. 'Is it worth it? Does being a star make you happy enough that you're willing to be followed for the rest of your life?'  
  
Carol faltered. 'Well, I don't know', she admitted. 'Like that, it doesn't exactly sound appealing'.  
  
'Okay, then let me put it this way', Therese proposed. 'If you were given the chance to give everything up and move to Seville, no questions asked, no one to answer to, would you do it?'  
  
'. . . No'.  
  
'Because you wouldn't want to'.  
  
'. . . No'.   
  
Therese looked away, defeated. So there it was. Carol often spoke of how her fame hindered her, but the truth was, she didn't want to give it up, because her career was too important. She couldn't have one thing without the other. That was why they were here, after all. Carol was fleeing the public revelation of her divorce, and she was hiding her relationship with Therese to avoid more harassment by the press. It was all to protect her career, her status in celebrity society. Therese thought she'd accepted this fact months ago, but only now was she realising that she still held that glimmer of hope that Carol would want to leave it all behind and start a new life with her. That she would let Harge drag her name through the dirt, because it wouldn't matter what the world thought of her anymore.   
  
It sounded stupid now.  
  
'Well, that's that', she said dejectedly.  
  
'Where's all this coming from, angel?' Carol asked gently.  
  
Therese looked at her. 'I wish you would', she confessed. 'Want to give it up, I mean. It sounds really selfish, but I do. Sometimes I think about what it would be like if you weren't you. If we were both ordinary. Our life together could be so much easier'.  
  
Carol took a moment to process this information. Therese watched as tears pooled in her eyes, not enough to spill down her face, but enough to leave a watery shine. Therese hadn't seen her sad eyes since they'd left New York.   
  
'You're right', she said flatly. 'It would be easier'.   
  
'But while you're _you_ , it will never be easy'.   
  
A small smile played upon Carol's lips, one of apology. 'No relationship is easy when you're famous'.   
  
'So is it worth it?' Therese asked, the pleading in her voice surprising even herself. 'Am I worth it?'   
  
Carol's eyes widened in bewilderment. Her smile fell. 'How can you even ask me that?' she whispered. 'You're worth more to me than you'll ever know. Therese, I love you'.   
  
Therese froze. S _he said it_ , she thought, taken aback. _She said it first_.   
  
She let the words sink in for a moment, until she found that she didn't need to. Carol had told her she loved her before, had shown her, over and over. She just hadn't yet uttered those three words. It still meant something, of course. But it didn't change how she felt now. Their problems didn't concern love, they concerned commitment.   
  
She looked down at her lap, trying to hide the fact that she was on the verge of tears. 'Then why do I feel like you're never going to acknowledge me?'   
  
'Not never', Carol tried to assure her, but her voice fell flat, as if she were unconvinced. 'Just not now. I'm not ready'.   
  
'No, you're not ready', Therese said bitterly. 'You're too afraid to be with me. You said it yourself. You're ashamed'.  
  
'Ashamed of myself, yes. But I'm not ashamed of you'.  
  
'Then show, don't tell', she pleaded. 'I love you too, Carol. God, I love you. But I'm still waiting for you'.   
  
Carol looked away. 'Soon', was all she said. 


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Friday everyone! Thanks for the well wishes for my move. I've had a crazy first week settling in, but everything's going well! Stay safe and enjoy your weekend.

'That was close!' Therese heard Dannie exclaim as she pushed the door open and stepped into that familiar, welcoming environment that was McElroy's.  
  
Only the woman with Dannie behind the bar wasn't familiar. She _was_ , but not here.  
  
Dannie was holding out a silver cocktail shaker, and, stood opposite him, a few metres away, ice cube in hand, ready to aim at the shaker, was Genevieve. Her long black hair was tied up in a high ponytail, and she wore the same deep burgundy shirt that all the McElroy's bartenders wore.  
  
'What the hell is going on?' Therese questioned, arms folded, stopped dead in the doorway.  
  
Both of them turned quickly, caught red-handed.  
  
Dannie's face lit up into a smile. 'Tee, you're back!'   
  
He came hurrying out from behind the bar and enveloped her in a hug. Therese smiled against his chest, breathing in the comforting scent of his cologne.  
  
'Tee, I'd like you to meet our new bartender', he announced as he released her, nodding over to where Gen stood behind the bar, leaning against the back counter comfortably, as if she belonged there.  
  
Therese blinked. 'You're kidding, right?'  
  
'Yes, he's kidding', Gen assured her. 'Carol called me. I'm covering for you, remember?'  
  
'Yeah, I do remember, but I thought she was joking'.   
  
'Nope', Dannie said happily. 'She's been a great help. And she makes the best margarita I've ever tasted!'   
  
'Well, thanks, Gen', Therese said, still confused by what she'd just stumbled in on.  
  
'Any time', Gen replied, waving a hand dismissively. 'No, seriously. Any time. I've had the best week!'  
  
'Yeah, maybe you should go away more, Tee', Dannie joked.  
  
Therese looked at Dannie sternly. 'If I find out you've slept with her', she warned him under her breath.   
  
'I haven't, I promise', he murmured back.   
  
_Hmm_ , Therese thought. _I'll bet Genevieve tried though_.  
  
She took a seat at the bar, as Dannie slipped back behind it.   
  
'So, you're trying to steal my job now, Gen?' Therese teased.  
  
'No, baby, my bartending days have been over for 20 years', she said with a wistful sigh. 'It was a fun little trip down memory lane, though'.   
  
'I'm glad'.  
  
'So, tell us all about your vacation!' Dannie encouraged.   
  
'We want to hear _everything_!' Gen said excitedly.   
  
'Well . . .' Therese thought about it for a moment. Only this morning, she and Carol were still in Seville, yet it already felt like a lifetime ago. The time difference had changed things, of course, because Therese had already been awake for almost ten hours, though it was only two o'clock in the afternoon in New York.  
  
Last night had been difficult, because it was difficult to acknowledge what had happened at dinner. They had gone for drinks after, and it was fun, and they tried to forget, but the rest of the night was tinted blue for Therese. The whole trip was, in some ways, because she already looked back on it as a temporary break from reality, something that just wasn't real. They had been happy, but that had all come crumbling down around them as they both had to face up to the fact that going back to New York meant going back into hiding, with no end in sight for either of them. Just a vague promise from Carol. _Soon_. It saddened her to even think about it.   
  
Dannie instantly noticed that something was off. 'Didn't it go well?' he asked in surprise.   
  
'No, it did', Therese said, shaking her head as if to shake away the sudden wave of melancholy that had overcome her. She wouldn't tell them about that now. 'Carol told me she loved me'.   
  
Dannie and Gen looked at each other, a smugness on each of their faces.   
  
'Well, obviously', Gen remarked.   
  
Therese smiled. 'Yeah. I knew it already'.  
  
 _See_? Therese pointed out to herself. _It's not so bad_! Carol's love for her was so real that her best friends, and Carol's, could see it easily. But, then again, Therese had never doubted that it was true.   
  
The door swung open behind them suddenly, awakening Therese from her thoughts.   
  
'Therese!' came an excited voice.  
  
She looked over her shoulder. 'Rindy!' she exclaimed.   
  
Therese jumped down off her bar stool as Rindy ran towards her, crouching down to the floor as the little girl launched herself into Therese's arms.  
  
'Hey, kid!' she greeted her, hugging her tightly.Then she pulled back, stroking a hand through her dark blonde waves. 'What are you doing here?'  
  
'Oh, good, Therese, you're here!' Abby exclaimed, bustling through the door with a couple of high-end shopping bags on either arm.  
  
Therese smirked. Abby always seemed to drip with wealth, but today, she literally did.   
  
The older woman dumped the bags by the bar, and pushed her sunglasses up into her mousy brown hair, holding it back like a hairband.   
  
Therese stood up. 'Hey, Abby'.   
  
Abby came over and wrapped her slender arms around Therese, an unusual move from Abby, but one Therese was grateful for. Maybe it was a symbol of her increasing integration in Abby's life, a life which sometimes seemed even harder to penetrate than Carol's.   
  
'Welcome home!' Abby grinned as she released her, leaving one hand gently resting on her shoulder. 'How was the flight?'  
  
'Fine', Therese shrugged. 'I slept for most of it'.   
  
'Well, Rindy wanted to come and see you, so I said I'd leave her here while I run to the drugstore, is that okay?'   
  
'Yeah, of course', Therese agreed.   
  
'Okay, great'. Abby went back to her bags and passed them over to Genevieve, who wordlessly took them off her and stashed them safely under the bar.   
  
_Unbelievable_ , Therese thought to herself. _Now these two are taking over McElroy's_?   
  
'Looking good, Gen', Abby teased.   
  
'I think burgundy is my colour', Gen responded in her deadpan voice.  
  
Abby was already hurrying towards the door when she turned around to Rindy. 'I'll be back real soon, Rindy, you be good!'   
  
'I will', Rindy promised, waving goodbye to her godmother.   
  
They watched Abby leave, and then Therese put a guiding hand on Rindy's shoulder.   
  
'Come sit', she invited, helping her onto a bar stool, and sitting herself down in the next one. 'Do you want a coke?'   
  
'Yes, please', Rindy smiled gratefully.   
  
'Dannie, would you? Rindy, this is my friend Dannie'.  
  
'Hi', she said, somewhat shy, as Dannie placed a bottle of Coca-Cola in front of her.   
  
'Hi, Rindy', he smiled. 'It's nice to meet you, finally'.   
  
Rindy turned to Genevieve. 'I didn't know you worked here, Gen'.   
  
Gen laughed. 'I don't, I'm just helping Dannie out while Therese has been away'.   
  
'Oh'.   
  
'So, what are you doing with Abby?' Therese asked Rindy.   
  
'We're having a shopping day', she replied absent-mindedly. 'Then she's taking me to see my mom'. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. 'I actually wanted to talk to you for a minute, while she's not here', she admitted.   
  
Therese frowned. _What's this_ _about_?   
  
'Yeah, of course, you can always talk to me', Therese assured her with a smile that she hoped was comforting rather than suspicious. It felt like that first day in Central Park all over again, trying to win her trust. 'What is it?'   
  
Rindy swallowed. 'I want to know what's really going on with you and my mom'.  
  
Therese froze. _Shit. Shit, shit, shit_.  
  
She shot a quick glance at Dannie and Gen, but the seconds that ticked by had already indicated her panic. The two of them looked back at her hopelessly.  
  
She, turned back to Rindy, and opened her mouth to respond. 'Um-'   
  
'My dad thought she was in LA this week', Rindy continued, saving Therese from her dumbfounded quiet. 'But Abby told me she was really on vacation with _you_ ', she said.   
  
Therese sighed, somewhat relieved. _Well, if she already knows that much_. 'Yeah, that's true', she admitted. 'I was with your mom'.  
  
'Are you in love with her?' Rindy asked outright.  
  
Therese looked at her incredulously, taken aback by the little girl's fierce determination. She wanted answers, and she didn't care who she had to make uncomfortable in order to get them.   
  
'Well . . .' she began.   
  
'Therese, I know Mom loves girls too'.  
  
She blinked. 'You do?'  
  
Rindy said nothing. Instead, she just turned her head, and shot an accusatory look at Genevieve.  
  
Therese gasped. Everyone turned to Gen.   
  
'Yeah', the older woman said awkwardly, hanging her head to avoid their eyes.   
  
Therese had never seen Genevieve show even an inkling of embarrassment before, and now here she was, squirming under the perceptive gaze of an eight year old girl.   
  
'She knows?' Therese demanded.  
  
Gen shrugged. 'She knows enough'.  
  
Rindy looked satisfied, having established her presence in that network of secrets and lies that connected her mother and the handful of people closest to her.   
  
'My parents used to fight a _lot_ ', the little girl explained, 'but one day, the fighting got worse, and all I heard was Genevieve this, Genevieve that. Soon after that, they told me they weren't going to be together anymore'.   
  
'Did your mom tell you what happened?' Therese asked gently.   
  
Rindy shook her head. 'My mom used to disappear for days back then. I couldn't talk to her about it. So I asked Aunt Abby. She told me Mom kissed Gen, but she wasn't going to anymore'.   
  
Dannie snorted. 'I think they did a lot more than that', he murmured, too quietly for Rindy to hear.   
  
Both Therese and Gen shot him a murderous glare, and Gen shoved him hard.   
  
Rindy continued, oblivious. 'But now there's you, and Mom's lying to my dad about where she is when she's with you'. She looked at Therese. 'So, do you love her?'   
  
Therese sighed, defeated. She hadn't exactly wanted to tell Rindy without her mother's permission, but she wouldn't lie to her when she asked so pointedly. 'Yeah, kid', she admitted. 'I do'.   
  
Rindy nodded her head in acceptance. 'Okay', she said confidently. 'I kinda guessed before. But I didn't know for sure'.   
  
'How do you feel about it?'   
  
The little girl paused for a moment, thinking it over. 'Well, I don't know. When Mom and Dad told me they were breaking up, I thought it would still just be us, just apart. I'd be with Mom, or I'd be with Dad'.  
  
'I understand', Therese assured her.   
  
Rindy waved a hand dismissively. 'But that doesn't matter. I know my mom. Last year, she was really sad, a lot of the time. But since she met you, Therese, things are like they used to be. She talks more now. She laughs more. That's how I knew she must be in love with you. You made her better'.  
  
Therese melted, face breaking out into a smile. If she needed anyone's approval of their relationship, it was Rindy's that mattered the most.   
  
'So you're happy with us being together?'   
  
'If she wants to be with someone, I'm glad it's you', Rindy said, smiling too. 'Besides, _we_ were friends before you even met my mom, remember?'   
  
Therese laughed. 'How could I forget?'   
  
'So, yes, I'm happy'. Rindy's smile fell away suddenly, her expression turning anxious. 'But my dad won't be'.   
  
Therese's frowned, a spike of fear shooting through her. 'Does he know anything?'   
  
Rindy shook her head. 'And I won't tell him. He was so angry about Gen, Therese. He'll be angry about you too'.   
  
'I know. But we're being careful, kid. There aren't many people who know about us'.  
  
Rindy nodded determinedly. 'Okay. I'll be careful too'.  
  


* * *

  
Nights together were a rare luxury. In fact, they were almost non-existent. Other engagements overlapped and overtook, black strikes through each day on the calendar. Therese's closing shifts were the most common obstacle, but Carol also had her fair share of night work, when the day's shooting schedule was thrown out in frustration and the cast and crew toiled tirelessly long after the supposed wrap time.   
  
Another reason was Rindy. Carol wasn't able to see her daughter as much as she would have liked, and so the nights in which Rindy was able to stay in Carol's apartment were usually reserved for the two of them, on Therese's orders rather than Carol's. Therese thought it was only right that Rindy get to spend some quality time with her mother without too frequent an imposition, despite the strong relationship they shared.   
  
Tonight, though, was uninterrupted. Having only returned from Seville earlier in the day, Therese wasn't expected at the bar until tomorrow, and Carol wasn't on the call sheet until later in the week. It was seven o'clock in New York, but they carried the extra six hours they had gained like buckets of water in each hand, dragging them down, exhausting them.   
  
Therese sipped at her glass of red wine as she watched the pasta cook in front of her, frequently falling into a sleepy daze, hypnotised by the bubbling water as it frothed in the pan.  
  
Carol finally joined her in the kitchen, breezing out of her bedroom and making a beeline for the glass of wine that waited for her at the kitchen island.   
  
'Sorry, that took longer than I thought', she apologised, sliding onto a bar stool.   
  
'Who was it?' Therese asked.   
  
'My lawyer', Carol said, rolling her eyes. 'I haven't even been back _one_ day and already he's nagging me'.   
  
'Welcome home', Therese said, smirking.   
  
Carol chuckled. 'I heard you had a visit from Rindy today', she said, changing the subject.   
  
Therese froze, expecting to see an accusatory look in Carol's eyes, but there was none. In fact, there was no sign at all of anything other than contentment, no inclination that anything had changed. _Carol doesn't know that Rindy knows_ , Therese realised. She knew that Carol had seen her daughter today, but Rindy clearly hadn't brought up the subject. This fact elicited a stirring of guilt in Therese, because in some ways it felt like she and Rindy had conspired. But still, she couldn't deny the glimmer of pride at having been the one Rindy chose to come to first.   
  
'Yeah, I did', she responded, trying to sound nonchalant. 'Is she staying with Abby tonight?'   
  
'No, she took her back to Harge's. She was here most of the afternoon, though. What did you two talk about?'   
  
Therese swallowed. 'She knows about us, Carol'.   
  
The older woman's eyes widened. 'What?'   
  
'She asked me, and I told her'.  
  
'Therese!' she cried. 'She can't know!'   
  
'Why not?' Therese tried to shrug it off. 'She's not going to tell Harge. She already knew, anyway'.  
  
Carol threw up her hands in frustration. 'She might not _tell_ him. She won't mean to. But she lives with him most of the time, you really think she'll manage to keep this quiet? She's just a child!'   
  
'You're the one who's always saying she's much older than her years', Therese pointed out. 'You taught her that, remember? She's been raised keeping secrets'.   
  
Carol faltered, opening her mouth to fire something back, only for her body to relax and her voice to soften. 'So much so that she knew about us all this time and didn't even mention anything', she mused. 'What did she say?'   
  
Therese relaxed a little. 'She said that she's happy it's me you chose to be with'.   
  
Carol smiled, then, in spite of her panic just a moment ago. 'I'm not surprised she thinks that. She adores you'.  
  
'But she also said her dad will be angry, if he finds out', Therese admitted. 'She understands, Carol. She says she'll be careful'.   
  
A long pause followed. Carol finally nodded her head, slowly. 'I hope you're right', she said, voice hollow with doubt.   
  
  



	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for continuing to leave comments and kudos. Hope everyone enjoys this chapter!

_Take away your pride and take away your grief,_

  
_And you'll finally be right where you need to be_

There were extremely few occasions for which the McElroy brothers felt it acceptable to close the bar early. Therese had only seen it happen a handful of times, and tonight would be one of them. José had landed a hosting gig at the club he performed at. It promised to be a big night for him, finally stepping out from the chorus of supporting drag queens he usually worked with, and into the spotlight on his own. It had only taken a matter of moments for everyone to convince Dannie and Phil that all of them should be there to support José, even if it meant they would have to leave the bar by nine o'clock on a Friday night. They said fuck it. All of the bartenders would be there at the club, cheering the loudest.  
  
Therese was ecstatic. A night out with all of them was so rare. They couldn't just go out to a bar, like any other young group of friends, because they were too busy running one. But, tonight, the whole family would be together.  
  
There was one lingering thought, though, that tinged her elation with shades of dismay.  
  
Phil had insisted that Therese invite Carol to José's show, an encouragement that was reinforced by the rest of the group. Phil said it was because it was about time that Carol got to know Therese's family a little better, which was true, but she also knew that they were all eager to see what Carol Aird was really like. Therese didn't mind it. Maybe she would have thought the same, if it was any of the others dating Carol instead of her.  
  
It didn't matter now, though. Carol had said no.  
  
Therese tried not to let this bother her, but, as Phil and Lucas bounced happily around the bar, chattering to customers for much longer than usual, talking animatedly between themselves about what tonight would bring, she felt herself retreating further into her own thoughts, her friends' excitement suddenly overwhelming her. She wasn't even supposed to be here. She was covering José's afternoon shift while he got his shit together for his show.  
  
'You're very quiet, Tee', Lucas observed as he breezed behind her, grabbing a couple of wine glasses off the hanging rack.  
  
She blinked hard, as if to wake herself from her dreamy state. 'Yeah, sorry', she said.   
  
He raised an eyebrow. 'Are you still thinking about what to wear?'   
  
'No!' Therese laughed. It was well-known amongst the group that Therese, for how much she pretended not to be interested in fashion, spent hours mulling over what to wear for an occasion, planning her outfit days, even weeks, before.  
  
Lucas smiled, a hint of sympathy crossing his face for a moment. 'It's still gonna be fun without Carol', he said gently. 'Promise'.  
  
'I know!' Therese exclaimed, slightly annoyed that he would think she was too upset to be excited anymore. 'Of course it is. Trust me, I can't wait'.   
  
Lucas shrugged. 'It just sucks that she turned you down'.   
  
'Yeah', Therese sighed.   
  
'Don't worry, she'll get over her internalised homophobia problem some day', Phil chipped in, obviously having been eavesdropping as he served his last customer.   
  
Therese shot him a strange look. 'What's that got to do with it?'   
  
'Isn't it because José's show is at a gay bar?' Lucas clarified for him. 'Because it's a drag show? Isn't that why she said no?'   
  
Therese thought about this for a moment. 'Well, I don't know', she admitted. 'Maybe? I don't think so. Gay culture doesn't scare her. Carol knows a ton of queer people, including her two best friends. She's just reluctant to associate it with herself'.   
  
Both men nodded in understanding.   
  
'I get it', Phil said. 'It must be hard to feel like she belongs when she's been married to a man for more than a decade, with everyone just assuming all that time that she was straight'.   
  
'Especially when her ex was such an asshole about it', Lucas added.   
  
'Exactly', Therese agreed, grateful that the three of them were on the same page, as if it made their analysis of Carol's situation more accurate.   
  
'Has Carol ever even been to a gay bar?' Lucas asked suddenly.   
  
Therese shrugged. 'I don't know, honestly'.  
  
'Surely when she was younger? When she was with Abby?'   
  
'I guess so'.  
  
'Then she knows how much fun they are, and still won't go?' He shook his head in disbelief. 'I feel bad for her, I really do'.   
  
Therese chuckled. 'It would be different if she was ordinary', she mused. 'I know why she said no. She doesn't want to be recognised hanging out in a gay bar with a bunch of people ten years younger than her'.  
  
'Tee, it's a _club_ ', Phil pointed out, rolling his eyes. 'It's gonna be dark as hell, everyone will be drunk and watching the show, and zero attention will be on us. No one's going to recognise her'.   
  
Therese held up her hands. 'I know all that! You don't have to convince _me_. But it's not-'   
  
'Therese!'   
  
The three of them were startled by Dannie's sudden shout as he emerged from the back office.   
  
'Call for you', he said, coming over to hand the phone to her. 'It's Carol'.   
  
Lucas and Phil shot each other a look.   
  
'Speak of the devil', Phil murmured. Dannie just shrugged, and disappeared back into the office.   
  
Therese gestured for her friends to leave her alone for a moment before holding the phone up to her ear.   
  
'Carol?'   
  
'Hi, angel. I'm sorry for calling you at work'.   
  
'That's okay', she assured her. 'What's up?'   
  
'I wanted to say I've changed my mind, about tonight'.  
  
Therese blinked. 'You have?'   
  
'I should have said yes already, but I got too anxious thinking about being there'. She trailed off. 'Well, you know how it is'.   
  
'Yeah'. Therese might have been annoyed by this comment, but she was already too delighted by this sudden turn of events.   
  
'But it sounds like fun'. Carol's voice sounded hopeful. 'And I need to lighten up. So I'll come, if I'm still invited'.   
  
Therese grinned. 'Okay. I'll tell José it's on'.   
  


* * *

  
Ruby's wasn't far from McElroy's, and Dannie, Phil and Mirai, who'd closed the bar at half past eight and gotten changed in the back office, were already at the club. Lucas was on his way, and José was backstage, already in the midst of his transformation into his drag alter-ego Josie Rosé.   
  
Therese went to Carol's apartment to meet her. Her breath hitched as the older woman opened the door, wearing a silk button-up shirt with a red, white and blue colour block pattern, with navy skinny jeans and black high-heeled lace-up boots that made her slim legs seem impossibly long and slender. Even with a simple look such as this, she still had the power to take Therese's breath away.  
  
Carol raised an eyebrow at her. 'What?'   
  
'You're beautiful', Therese breathed.   
  
Carol blushed. 'As are you, my darling', she said adoringly, brushing a hand along Therese's jaw before she leaned in for a long, slow kiss.   
  
Abby had agreed to take the two of them to Ruby's. They sat together in the backseat, as though Abby was a real chauffeur, hands joined in the space between them, Carol's thumb rubbing the back of Therese's hand in gentle circles. As Carol talked away happily, Therese guessed that she was comforted by Abby's presence, even for the short car ride to the club. It was the last connection to familiarity before she would be surrounded, for the first time, by Therese's friends, in a place that was distinctly Therese. The younger woman knew, if their places were reversed, she would be terrified.   
  
The fact that Ruby's was José's regular club meant, of course, that the McElroy's bartenders were regular customers and had become friendly with the bartenders there, which always paid off in one way or another. Tonight, Dannie had managed to persuade Katia, the owner's niece, to kick out the group of people who'd claimed the VIP booth towards the back of the room. The booth was circular in shape, curved around a central table, with a high back, revealing only a small gap where a person could enter and sit down. This gap made the stage visible, but sheltered the people in the booth from the rest of the audience. It was perfect. There, Carol would be comfortable.   
  
Therese led her into the club through the side entrance, having told José what time they would arrive and what time he should ask Katia to leave the door open. It all felt like a complicated operation, but this was the price of having Carol with her in one of _her_ places. It was annoying, but, admittedly, pulling a few strings with her contacts wasn't a major inconvenience.   
  
They were greeted by a happy chorus of 'hey!' as they approached the booth. Therese's eyes swiped along the circular seat, where her friends sat side by side, all dressed up, sliding along until they reached the gap, where they could stand up to greet them, to embrace them.   
  
As she hugged them one by one, she noticed there was someone missing. 'Where's Phil?'   
  
'At the bar', Mirai said, nodding her head towards the opposite side of the room. 'First round's on him. He lost the bet'.  
  
'What bet?' Carol asked.  
  
'He said he'd be able to get Katia's number', Lucas smirked. 'He didn't'.  
  
Everyone laughed as they shuffled back through the gap and along the seat. Therese sat next to Dannie on the left hand side, leaving Carol on the end, her back to the rest of the audience, the high back of the seat concealing her from view. Therese breathed a sigh of relief as she watched Carol settle in comfortably, talking to Lucas across the table. Therese smirked as she watched him, saw the crinkled lines in his forehead, the straightness of his back, sitting up at the table. He was nervous, she noticed, she who knew him so well, though Carol wouldn't recognise it.   
  
In Lucas' anxiety, she saw a reflection of herself, now she had stopped to breathe. She'd been wound up so tight all afternoon, reciting a schedule in her head, considering all the possibilities in which Carol was recognised, was questioned, and paving paths around them in her mind, building a sprawling network that swirled and interconnected. But she could forget about that now. They were here, they were okay. Her friends were there, and they would look out for the both of them.  
  
Therese took Dannie's hand and squeezed it. 'Thanks for getting the booth', she murmured.   
  
Dannie grinned at her. 'It was easy'. He reached his other hand into his back pocket, and pulled out a crumpled slip of paper. 'Phil might not have gotten Katia's number, but I did'.  
  
Therese laughed. 'No shit!'  
  
'Hey, Dannie, are you gonna bring that up all night?'  
  
Phil had arrived, setting down a tray of bright orange cocktails in the middle of the table.  
  
'Tequila sunrise?' Mirai asked, reaching out to snatch one up before Phil had time to reply.  
  
He nodded. 'Summer may be coming to an end, but we'll keep it going just a little longer'.   
  
Therese sighed, the tray of garishly bright cocktails almost glowing in the darkness. _Tequila. Again. Why does everyone always order tequila?_   
  
Phil smirked as he noticed her reaction. 'Oh come on, Tee!'  
  
Everyone shuffled along to make room for Phil.   
  
'Hey, Carol!' he greeted her enthusiastically as he sat down beside her. Therese melted as she watched him wrap his arms around her, hugging like old friends.   
  
And they were like old friends, all of them. Carol was naturally social, spending much of her life meeting new people at various events and occasions, and she fit in smoothly, trading jokes and talking easily. The group quickly realised this, and they too relaxed in her company. It didn't take long for them to forget that they were in the presence of a celebrity, because the woman behind that world-famous name was as real a person as any one of them. It was impossible not to be put at ease by someone as magnetic as Carol.   
  
Therese, on the other hand, didn't feel at ease at all. She stared in awe at the exchanges taking place around her, forcing herself to absorb the scene as if it might dissolve into nothingness at any moment. This had seemed like a distant dream for so long, an alternate universe in which she and Carol could be normal, could enjoy a normal night out. This wasn't their reality, yet it was happening. Carol had her hand on Therese's thigh. She felt like she was about to combust.  
  
Her cocktail glass had mysteriously emptied _(when did I drink it all?)_ when José texted her.  
  
 _Can you and Mirai get in here_? she read. _I'm freaking out_!  
  
'Um, Mirai, we have a problem', Therese announced loudly, interrupting her conversation.   
  
Everyone turned to look at her.  
  
'What's up?' Mirai asked.   
  
'José wants us to go see him. He's panicking'.   
  
'Oh, okay', she nodded, springing to action immediately. She pushed Lucas, forcing him out of his seat so she could get up.   
  
'Is he okay?' Carol frowned.   
  
'Oh, yeah, probably just stage fright getting to him', Therese assured her.   
  
'Therese has always been Josie Rosé's number one fan', Dannie explained. 'She even came up with the name'.   
  
Carol smiled, turning to Therese. 'You did?'   
  
'Yeah', Therese said, feeling suddenly shy. 'Josie because it's a feminine version of José, and Rosé because it rhymes with José, and-'   
  
'Because he's a middle-aged wine mom trapped in the body of a 28 year old Latino', Dannie finished for her.   
  
Carol laughed. 'I love it'. Then she gently brushed a strand of Therese's dark hair away from her temple and kissed her there. 'Go. He needs you'.   
  
'I'll be back soon', she promised.   
  
Therese and Mirai crossed the room, snaking around the back of the crowd, past the bar, and to the stage door, where they found Katia loitering, checking out the crowd, her platinum blonde hair with it's pink ends swaying as she turned her head from side to side.   
  
'Hey, Katia, is Josie here?' Therese asked.   
  
She nodded, gesturing to the doors behind her. 'Yeah, she's right through here'.   
  
'Thanks'.   
  
The two of them pushed through the doors to find José pacing up and down the corridor, eyes on the floor, rubbing his temples as he walked.   
  
José was beautiful any day, but he made a beautiful woman too. His wig was long, black, and flowing, his face made up with sparkling golden eyeshadow, thick black eyeliner wings and deep red lipstick. He wore a gold sequined bodycon dress with stockings and black stilettos that were taller than anything Therese would ever dare to wear.   
  
'Hey', the women called to him.  
  
José looked up, relief crossing his face. He ran over, putting an arm around each of them, towering over them in his heels. 'Thank God you guys are here'.   
  
'You look so beautiful', Therese fawned.  
  
'How's the make-up, Mirai?' he asked as she put a hand on his chin, turning it this way and that, inspecting each side of his face in different lights. When he started doing drag, it was Mirai who taught him how to do his make-up. Now, he was better than she was.  
  
'You've made me so proud, you hot piece of ass', she praised, but her eyes were full of concern. 'What's wrong, since when do you get shy?'   
  
He sighed. 'Oh, I don't know, I just got really anxious all of a sudden. I'm scared I'm gonna bomb'.  
  
'This is the same club you're always at, they chose you to host for a reason', Therese pointed out.   
  
'Yeah, but this is the biggest responsibility I've ever had. That, and the fact that fucking Carol Aird is here watching me'.  
  
Therese laughed. 'You'll be both pleased and unsurprised to know that Carol Aird knows _nothing_ about drag', she assured him. 'If this is the worst show of your life, she won't know any different'.   
  
'Okay, yeah', he conceded. 'That makes me feel better. You know, we're just trying to look good in front of your woman, Therese'.   
  
Therese pouted at him. 'That's very sweet, and also totally unnecessary'.   
  
Mirai folded her arms, and exchanged a look with José. Therese didn't miss it.   
  
She frowned. 'You really think you have to impress her or something?'   
  
An awkward silence ensued. Therese eyed them both expectantly. Mirai spoke first. 'We're just . . . us, Therese. We're so normal. And Carol's a star. We don't want her to feel like she _has_ to hang out with us'.   
  
Her friends looked at the floor awkwardly, as if they were too afraid to look at Therese, for fear of disappointing her. It hurt Therese to see it. Did all the others feel this way too? Had they discussed it?   
  
'Mirai, I don't know what you've all been talking about behind my back, but _please_ don't think you have to try hard to get Carol to like you'.   
  
'But what if she _doesn't_ like us?'   
  
Therese looked at them both, wavering and unsure. Did they really believe Carol could ever come between them, that Carol would make her choose? She looked at the two of them, thinking of the others too, and saw the only family she had ever known, saw the hours they had spent laughing together, the times they held her when she cried, how they pulled her up when she fell down, their support like a shield she wielded against the cruelties of the world. They were _her_ people, people she'd chosen for herself.  
  
'Carol's getting dumped if she ever starts talking shit about you guys', she said confidently. 'You're my family. I belong _here_ , with you, not in glamorous hotels and five-star restaurants. But she knows that already. That's why I'm happy she came out tonight. I wanted to do something that's _me_ for a change'.  
  
José exhaled with a whistle. 'Guess it's a big night for all of us, then'.   
  
Therese shook her head. 'No, dude, tonight is all about you. You're gonna kill it'.   
  


* * *

The show was a success, judging by the cheers and shouts from the audience. The McElroy's group were the loudest of all, screaming and singing along until their throats were raw, soothed only by the syrupy cocktails they drained one after the other. Therese thought she might explode with pride as José took his final bow, crawling across the stage gathering all the dollar bills that drifted to the floor around him like leaves from a tree in fall.   
  
As the stage lights dimmed, the coloured lights of the dancefloor were illuminated, and as the sound of Madonna pumping through the speakers, the crowd began to move in time to the music, as if they'd been put under a spell.   
  
Phil was first up, shimmying out into the space just to the side of the booth, a spot where they could dance, but they would still have enough privacy. He took Carol by the hand and dragged her up to dance with him. Everyone laughed and cheered, and Therese shot Phil a warning look, willing him not to stray too far. He nodded in understanding.   
  
It wasn't long before everyone was on their feet. They danced together, one or two of them disappearing occasionally to go to the bar or to use the bathroom, but no one sat down again. Therese watched Carol dancing with Mirai as she waited at the bar with Lucas, mesmerised by the way she moved so elegantly. Carol caught her staring, their eyes meeting across the room, and Carol winked at her seductively over her shoulder. Therese felt like she might pass out.   
  
José eventually joined them from backstage, de-dragged, bringing with him a tray of vodka shots. The group embraced him, telling him they'd never been more proud, and pulled him into their own created dancefloor.   
  
After an hour and a half like this, Carol pulled Therese close.   
  
'I need some air', Carol shouted into her ear.   
  
Therese nodded, and took her by the hand, leading her around the back of the booth and through the hidden side door they'd used when they first arrived.   
  
Outside the door was a dimly lit alley that separated Ruby's from the next club. Cigarette butts and crumpled beer cans littered the floor, a stream of dark, bubbly liquid trickling from one of them. Therese closed the door behind them.   
  
Carol leaned heavily back against the cool bricks, closing her eyes, swaying slightly.   
  
Therese did the same beside her, her entire left side tingling as it made contact with Carol's body. 'I don't remember the last time I got drunk like this', she mused.   
  
'I do. But, for a while, I was a borderline alcoholic. I got drunk like this every day'.   
  
Therese looked at her in alarm, mentally preparing herself to be faced with Carol's sad eyes, but the older woman was smirking, a sardonic grin that spread wider and wider until she was laughing. Therese found it jarring, but suddenly she was laughing too, more at the absurdity of it all than anything else.  
  
Carol stopped after a moment. 'I don't need any of that with you', she said, voice turning serious. 'You fixed me'.   
  
Therese rolled her eyes.

She wasn't anyone's saviour, and she certainly wasn't Carol's. If Carol really wanted to be saved, she would have given up all of this lying and pretending, and let the people who loved her shield her from the backlash, let them hold her hand and lead her out the other side. But it was Carol alone that had to make that first step.   
  
A cool breeze caressed her face as it swept through the alley. Was summer really over? She shivered suddenly, as, for the first time tonight, she noticed the cold. It raked across her skin, leaving a trail of goose pimples.   
  
'I haven't fixed you', Therese said eventually. 'I can't. You have to fix yourself'.   
  
Carol looked at her dreamily. 'I'm trying, for you', she promised. 'You make me want to be better. I'll be better, for you'.   
  
Therese's heart constricted inside her chest. The sentiment was real, but she knew the truth. She'd learned to be let down, and yet, her love outweighed her disappointment.   
  
She found herself wishing Carol would stop talking. It had been the most wonderful night, and it wasn't over yet. It had been easy to forget everything else that worried her every minute of every day, as if morning was another problem for another person to deal with. Carol was trying to remind her.   
  
She didn't want to hear it.   
  
In one swift move, she turned to Carol, pinned her against the wall. She held a finger to Carol's lips.   
  
'Don't spoil it', she whispered. 'Shut up and kiss me'.   
  
Carol obeyed wordlessly, melting into her. Therese held her wrists as if she might drift away if she didn't hold her down, like she might float upwards and take her place among the stars. The thought terrified her, the mere prospect of letting her go.   
  
'I love you, I love you', Carol whispered against her lips, over and over.  
  
Lost in ecstasy as she entwined her fingers in Carol's golden hair, Therese failed to notice a sound at the end of the alley, a sound she knew so well.  
  
The _snap_ of a camera, obscured in the darkness.   
  



	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Major angst incoming. You knew something like this was heading your way . . . Thanks as always for the comments and kudos. I love hearing your opinions/theories.

Abby and Genevieve were in the doorway again, their familiar silhouettes emerging from the street outside.  
  
Therese had learned to expect it by now. Their regular dropping by at McElroy's had become a staple in her life since she had met Carol, something fixed, something she could rely on. In the early days, it usually meant trouble, but more recently, she had grown to enjoy their random visits, now they trusted her, saw her as Carol's equal rather than as an imposter they should be suspicious of.  
  
Something was different today, though. Therese stopped dead as the two of them lingered by the door, staring at her with such alarm on their faces, it was as if they'd walked into the bar to find a stranger in Therese's place. Neither of them spoke. Therese felt a shiver trickle down her spine.  
  
Genevieve stalked over suddenly, stilettos clicking loudly against the wooden floor. 'Baby, come to the office with me for a minute', she instructed.   
  
Therese frowned. 'What, why-'   
  
'Just do it!' she snapped.   
  
Therese held up her hands in surrender, shooting a quizzical look at Abby. The brunette wasn't even looking at her though, her head down, staring intently at her phone.  
  
Genevieve burst into the office, causing Phil to nearly jump out of his chair in surprise.   
  
'Gen, what are you doing here?' he blinked as he realised who it was.   
  
'Get out, Phil', Gen snapped at him.   
  
Phil opened his mouth to protest, but one look at Genevieve's murderous glare told him there was no point in trying. He got up, side-stepping around the desk, mumbling something under his breath as he went. Gen slammed the door behind him.   
  
Therese watched her in astonishment. 'Are you gonna tell me what's happening or - Jesus, Gen!'   
  
She stopped as Gen suddenly pulled her pinstripe button-up shirt over her head, revealing a black lace bra beneath.   
  
'Give me your shirt', she demanded. 'I'm covering your shift'.  
  
Therese looked at her as if she'd gone insane. 'What the fuck, Gen!'   
  
Genevieve held out her shirt to Therese, panic etched across her pale face. 'You take mine. You need to go with Abby, now. They're gathering outside already'.   
  
'I'm not moving until you tell me what's going on!' Therese folded her arms.   
  
Gen pinned her with those startling blue eyes, frozen over with an urgency Therese had never seen in them before. Then she blinked hard, and sighed. 'It's out, Therese. Me, you, Carol. All of it'.  
  
The ground seemed to drop away beneath her.

 _It's out_. Those words Therese had thought might never come, words that, if she admitted it to herself, deep down, she thought she wanted to hear, because they would surely set her free. She was wrong. Hearing them now, the words fell on top of her like a ton of bricks, as she understood the weight of them, what they meant. She was unstable on her feet, suddenly, as if she was falling through the floor.   
  
Gen grabbed her upper arm, steadying her. 'Baby, you don't know the half of it. Give me your shirt, I'll deal with things here, and you go with Abby. She'll explain everything on the way'.  
  
'Where's she taking me?' Therese managed to choke out.  
  
'To Carol. She's leaving, Therese'.  
  


* * *

  
The world seemed to move in slow motion as Abby's hand on the small of her back guided her to the car, parked just outside McElroy's. Even that short distance wasn't enough to protect her from the cameras shoved in front of her face, the flashes that burned her retinas, the shouts of her name, of Carol's, of Genevieve's. It all moved in a blurry haze, as if she was in a dream, and none of this was real at all. She didn't flinch as bodies bumped into her, the snapping sound of shutters like white noise in the air.  
  
Abby guided her into the backseat, using the car door as a battering ram against the crowd of reporters that circled the car like vultures around a rotting carcass. Then she slammed it shut, the sound of it startling Therese, shocking her awake from her daze. She looked, for the first time, into the faces of those shouting strangers, shoved right up against the glass, as if she were an animal in a zoo, everyone trying to get a closer look at her. It was terrifying. Her whole body was beginning to shake uncontrollably.  
  
Abby slid into the driver's seat and started the engine, pulling away into the road as fast as she possibly could. 'Shit', she exhaled with a whistle, relieved to be in the safety of the car, out in the road where they couldn't be followed. At least, not on foot.   
  
Her worried brown eyes found Therese in the rear-view mirror. 'I'm so sorry, honey', she apologised. 'You don't deserve any of this'.  
  
Therese looked back at her, and caught her own eyes in the mirror, wide and full of terror. 'Tell me what happened, Abby', she pleaded, voice trembling along with the rest of her body.  
  
Abby said nothing, just wordlessly took one hand off the steering wheel, picked up her phone from the front passenger seat and unlocked it with her fingerprint. Then she passed it backwards to Therese.  
  
The younger woman took the phone into her shaking hands, but almost dropped it when she saw the contents of the screen, as if it was burning hot. Her stomach lurched, but she forced herself to look.   
  
There were photographs, two of them, side by side, a caption underneath that she couldn't even bring herself to read. The words seemed to blur together, an ugly stain against the bright white background of whatever news website this was.  
  
She was looking at herself. Her small, thin frame clad in her black ribbed crop top with the three little sunflowers sewn in across the chest and her olive green cigarette pants, her hair in its natural waves. And then there was Carol, pressed up against the brick wall, golden hair illuminated like a halo in the dim yellow light that shone down like heavenly rays from the light above the side door. Pale arms circling Therese's waist. Their faces were inches apart, a kiss just broken, or another about to begin.  
  
The other picture was of Carol and Genevieve, taken from the street outside Cantrell Gallery, a rectangle of white light from inside the gallery illuminating the figures of the two women. Carol was standing, her back to the camera, her face slightly obscured, but it was unmistakably her. Her hair was shorter back then, Therese noticed. Gen sat in front of her on the edge of a white table, looking up at Carol as if she was waiting for her to kiss her.   
  
Therese felt sick.  
  
Abby watched her in the mirror. 'Scroll down', she suggested, noticing the lack of movement in Therese's hands, just the intent fixation of her eyes on the screen.  
  
Therese shook her head, blinking hard as if to force the images from her eyes. 'I don't wanna see any more'.  
  
The older woman took her phone back. 'Well, I'm sure you can imagine what they're saying'.  
  
'Where did those photos come from?' she asked stupidly. _As if that even matters now_.  
  
Abby sighed. 'Harge sent a private investigator after Carol. He followed you to Ruby's. The guy waited for you, and he took those photos back to Harge. He lost his shit'.   
  
'But why did he sell them?'  
  
'He confronted Carol over you. Said it was the last straw, demanded that she withdraw from Rindy's custody battle immediately or he'd go to the press. She called his bluff'. Abby laughed humourlessly. 'Guess she was wrong'.  
  
Therese swallowed, her mouth dry as the desert. 'How do the paparazzi know my name, where I work?'   
  
'Harge has a very loyal friend in Jeanette', Abby said flatly. 'I've spent months trying to pacify her, but she sold Carol out once, and she's done it again. She knew about you. Not exactly that you were dating Carol, but she knew who you were. She spoke to Dannie, that night at Gen's party. Found out all about you'.   
  
Therese felt a pang of guilt at the mention of Dannie's name, at the thought of how he'd never forgive himself if he knew how he had unwittingly played a role in Therese's identification by the press. She'd find another explanation as to why there was a crowd of reporters camped outside McElroy's, she decided.  
  
Abby pulled out onto 10th Avenue by the Lincoln Tunnel. They were headed in the direction of the Upper West Side, where Abby lived. Therese had never been to her apartment, but she knew it was a sanctuary for Carol, somewhere the press couldn't find her. With today's events, though, Therese had a horrible feeling that this was no longer the case.  
  
'Is Carol at your place?' Therese asked.  
  
'Yes'.  
  
'Is she really leaving?'   
  
Her voice cracked on the last word. _Leaving_. Of course, Therese knew that one day Carol would have to go back to LA. But it wasn't supposed to be so sudden. It wasn't supposed to be like this.   
  
Abby eyed her in the mirror, as if trying to gauge the level of Therese's fragility, whether she should be overly kind or gentle. In the end, she decided to tell her straight.   
  
'I've tried to talk some sense into her, but, honey, she's on the verge of a nervous breakdown', she admitted. 'She's . . . irrational. The way she's acting, anyone would think she's been convicted of murder'.  
  
'And being outed is her life sentence', Therese mumbled.  
  
Abby smiled sardonically. 'Yeah, I guess you could say that'. Then her face turned serious again. 'You're the only one who might convince her to stay and deal with this'.   
  
'How? I'm the reason for all this. She's leaving because of me'.   
  
'This isn't your fault', Abby said, shaking her head with conviction. 'If she makes you believe that it is, I want you to promise me that you won't stand for it'.   
  
Therese was taken aback. Never did she think, after all Abby's suspicions and interrogations of her, that when it all fell apart, Abby would take her side.   
  
'You don't blame me?' she asked meekly, as if she needed further confirmation that it was the truth.  
  
Abby shook her head, but her eyes didn't meet Therese's in the mirror. She stared straight ahead at the road.   
  
'Love is a dangerous thing for a woman like Carol. She loves you, and she risked everything because of it. But that's on her, not you. She handled it all wrong. Now she's going to get what's coming to her. You both are'.  
  


* * *

  
Abby had guided Therese into her apartment building through another crowd of paparazzi, congregated around the front door like an angry mob. But, instead of leading her upstairs, she hung back, telling Therese that she would wait while she talked to Carol. It seemed strange. Had Abby really given up trying with Carol?   
  
Therese just nodded in agreement, and left Abby hovering by the front door. Apparently the role of security guard was something else she was expected to fulfil, as Carol's PA.   
  
She followed Abby's directions, up to the fourth floor and to the end of a long, windowless corridor, and let herself in.   
  
The apartment was chic and modern, with dark oak flooring and framed vintage movie posters hanging on the bare brick walls, and leafy green plants covering every surface, twisting and spilling out from their pots.   
  
The entrance opened out into a small foyer, with a small corridor swerving off to the left, and another to the right. Straight ahead was the lounge, obscured slightly by a piece of wall that seemed to stick out further than it was meant to. Therese moved slightly, quietly, peering around the wall to reveal a charcoal grey corner-couch at the far edge of the room, backlit by the window.  
  
Carol was sitting there, eyes down, staring down at the glass coffee table in front of the couch. She hadn't noticed Therese come in. It seemed she was in such a distant daze, she wasn't really here at all. She was just sitting there, waiting.  
  
Against the brightness of the room, the pops of colour from the posters on the walls and the bright yellow rug that sat underneath the coffee table, Carol was shaded in grey. All her vibrance was dulled, as if the energy had been sucked out of her, like a vampire draining his victim of blood. She seemed thinner. Was that even possible? _Of course not_. But that's how she appeared, smaller and shrunken into herself, as if she was trying to retreat, to vanish into thin air.   
  
Therese approached. Her sneakers barely made a sound against the floor, but Carol had finally noticed the movement. She looked up, and, as she saw it was Therese, her eyes widened with terror.  
  
'Therese, what are you doing here?'   
  
Her voice trembled like she'd never heard before. It sounded hollow and broken, as if it had become disconnected, a voice without a person, rattling around inside Carol's withering body.  
  
 _Abby hasn't told her I'm coming_ , Therese realised quickly. It meant something more. It meant Carol hadn't intended to see her before she took off for LA.  
  
Her heart sank the the pit of her stomach with a dull thud, pulling at her arteries as it fell, sending a jolt of pain through her chest. But that wasn't enough to distract her from the anger that rose within.  
  
'You were really gonna leave without saying goodbye?' Therese said disbelievingly.   
  
Carol seemed to shrink even further, shying away from Therese's confrontation. 'I can't do this right now'.  
  
'That first day I met you, you told Rindy that running away isn't the way to deal with your problems. Now you're doing exactly that'.   
  
Carol threw her arms up in despair. 'What other choice do I have?'   
  
'You can stay'. Therese tried desperately to fight back her tears. 'It'll be hard. But I'm here. We all are. You have people that love you, people that will stand by you. You can't leave us'. Her voice started to crack. 'You can't leave _me_ '.   
  
'Every place I felt safe in New York is now swarming with reporters', Carol told her calmly. 'I can't breathe without being followed. I have to get out of the city'.  
  
'And then what? What about us? What about _Rindy_? What happens to her?'   
  
'Therese, don't you get it?' Carol cried. 'Harge wins. What judge in the land is going to give me custody of her now? There's photographic evidence that I'm a serial cheater all over the internet! Throw in the fact of my little drinking problem and it's a pretty solid case, don't you think?'  
  
'So you're just gonna give up?' Therese asked desperately.   
  
'I have to!' She faltered then, closing her eyes for a moment, and putting her head in her hands. 'I have to', she repeated, quieter this time. 'I'm so tired, Therese. Tired of everything. It shouldn't be like this'.  
  
 _She's right_ , Therese thought bitterly. It shouldn't be like this. But _this_ was Carol's choice. This was how she had made her bed. Because if she had only stood up for herself before, if she had refused to be blackmailed and bullied, none of this would have happened. How could Harge threaten to expose her if she exposed herself first? She would have taken control of her own narrative, her own story. It would have been told right.   
  
But now, the closet doors had been flung open, and Carol cowered in fear, shrinking back into the darkness instead of stepping out into the open, into freedom. That was always how it was going to happen, and, deep down, Therese had always known it.  
  
'It was all bullshit, when you said you wanted to be better', she accused. 'Because here's your chance, your chance to tell the truth, to prove you're not ashamed of who you are, and you're running away. And for what? To go hide out in LA and pretend none of this ever happened?'  
  
Carol's eyes darted around the room, landing anywhere but on Therese, like she wasn't able to look at her. 'I need some space, some time to think', she said. 'That's why I have to leave'.  
  
A paralysing fear had begun to spread throughout Therese's body, leaving her unable to move. Each time Carol spoke was an extension of the space between them. She was pushing her away, and she was growing increasingly aware of it with every passing second.   
  
Agitated, she ran her fingers along the bottom of her shirt. Genevieve's shirt. She would have forgotten she was wearing it if it wasn't for the lingering scent of Gen's perfume in the soft cotton.   
  
She thought about her now. Would things be different if Therese was more like Gen? If she was older and richer and had her life figured out? Maybe that way Carol would be less afraid to admit to the world that she was in love with another woman, if that woman walked a path of life that ran parallel to her own. But one who was 12 years younger than her, who worked as a bartender because she couldn't figure out how to make photography a viable career, had been dragged up in the foster system because two volatile, violent people had conceived her by accident? It was far too scandalous.  
  
Therese couldn't help but think that it wouldn't change anything anyway. She was a woman, and the women who loved Carol, and had loved her, were the monsters under her bed. They were the dirty little secrets her public self would never dare to acknowledge she kept, and her private self would indulge in only behind closed doors, her deadliest vice.   
  
'You're never gonna face up to this, are you?' Therese said hopelessly.  
  
'None of it matters now', Carol muttered. 'There's no coming back. Everything's ruined'.  
  
Therese wiped furiously at her tears with the back of her hand, but it was no use. They wouldn't stop falling.   
  
'Stay', she whispered. 'Please. I love you'.   
  
Carol looked at her, finally, her gaunt face set, the expression of someone who had already made their decision.   
  
'Go home, Therese', she said. 'I'll do the same'.   
  
It was like a punch to the stomach. She opened her mouth to protest, only to find all the breath had been knocked out of her. It was futile anyway. Carol's mind was made up.   
  
She was crying so much now that her breath only came in short rasps. Her lungs burned, her throat felt raw. Is this what it felt like to drown?   
  
She was breaking down in front of Carol, but she didn't see a single tear on the older woman's face. Therese had never seen Carol cry. It often seemed as though she was about to, but she always held back. Now she'd broken the heart of the woman she loved, was about to leave her behind to mend it on her own, and it still wasn't enough.   
  
Carol was a great actress, after all. Maybe this control was all performance, and later, when she was alone, she'd fall apart. Or maybe she wouldn't.  
  
Either way, Therese wouldn't get to find out. 


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the comments on the last chapter. I was a little worried about it but all the positive reactions made me really happy! Hope you enjoy this one.

**WINTER**

_Take all of it, take everything you're owed_

  
_'Til you finally feel okay being alone_

Therese gripped her paper cup tightly, letting the warmth of the coffee within seep through into her fingers. The cold December air was harsh against her face as it swept through the street, as if it were a wind tunnel. Her hair was tied back, the large headphones she always wore acting as earmuffs as well as blasting music into her ears at a higher-than-necessary volume. That was her thing, lately. She'd leave for work early, grab a hot drink along the way, and just take a walk through her neighbourhood, letting the cold and the coffee wake her up and the music drown out her thoughts.   
  
Sometimes, people would look at her strangely, a subtle look of recognition crossing their faces, as if they couldn't quite figure out where they'd seen her before. Sometimes, they would call her name. Sometimes, they would call her a slut, or a whore.  
  
She wished she had somewhere other than the busy streets of New York to walk. She liked to imagine herself lost in the endless cornfields of Kansas, sunbathing on a Florida beach, or padding through a thick blanket of snow in Michigan. Sometimes, she was just in another city, still crawling like an ant through a concrete jungle, but one that was free of attachments, of familiarity.  
  
She thought often of how, back in the late spring, she had toyed with the idea of moving away. How wildly different her life would be now, if she'd gone through with it.   
  
Memories of the summer still haunted her, ghosts from a past that seemed so distant now, so far removed from reality, that it was almost like remembering a film she had watched, or a play she had seen. It was a story of somebody else's life. Yet the pain she still felt was so raw, it was enough to remind her that it had all truly happened.   
  
Missing Carol had become as natural as breathing to Therese. Her disappearance had left her with a hunger she could never satiate, a dark void that sat in the pit of her stomach, an emptiness that gnawed away at her insides. Carol's voice still echoed in her head, the memory of it taunting her, teasing her with its absence. She could quiet it to a whisper in the daytime, but at night it became a scream that kept her awake. And in those rare moments when sleep came to her, she only dreamt of Carol. There was no escape. Carol still lived with her, still slept with her. She followed her like a shadow on the sidewalk. It was exhausting, and nothing she did was enough to stop it. She couldn't find peace in the books she read, at the bottom of wine bottles, in the occasional other women she went home with in the early hours of the morning.   
  
What was worse about this private hell was that it wasn't private at all. For a long time, she couldn't even turn on the TV without seeing Carol's face, couldn't walk past a newspaper stand without seeing photographs of her splashed across the covers of magazines. Sometimes she'd see her own face staring back at her, or Genevieve's, and if there wasn't a picture, she'd almost always see her own name. It jumped out from the pages as if to torment her.   
  
When Carol left at the beginning of fall, the scandal was nationwide news, and, since she had vanished, refusing to talk about any of it, the press cornered Therese and Genevieve, the last remnants she had left behind in the dust. The press preyed on them, hid around street corners and in the stores and restaurants of Greenwich Village, like lions in the tall grass, watching them, waiting, until they sprung out with their cameras flashing and their microphones outstretched. They interrogated them about their lives, their backgrounds, their respective relationships with Carol. Who seduced who? How many other women was Carol seeing? What had happened to Carol's daughter?   
  
The two of them had agreed right from the start that they wouldn't say a single word to the press, but that was the only pact they had made. Their battles were entirely separate, something Therese often regretted, because maybe with Gen by her side, the two of them could have fought together. But that wasn't how things played out. In fact, Therese hadn't spoken to either her or Abby in months. She found it too difficult to be friends when all she felt around them was guilt.   
  
So alone she carried the burden that Carol had left her, unable to leave her apartment without being followed. It was as if a huge target had been painted on her back. It was a high price to pay, when all she had done was fall in love. She changed her phone number every week, unable to stop the influx of calls from unknown numbers. She deleted all of her social media accounts. She received death threats from people she didn't know.   
  
Back then, there was always a crowd outside her building, but McElroy's was also a press hot-spot. It got so intense in the first weeks that Dannie and Phil were forced to shut the bar, and Therese's friends started living with her in shifts, sometimes all five of them camped out in her apartment, ordering pizza and watching films, anything to take Therese's mind off this long, slow punishment.  
  
When the chaos had died down after a couple of months, the press had mostly left her alone, although it was still common to find a lone reporter posing as a customer at McElroy's. They'd sit at the bar, making small talk with Therese, pretending they didn't know who she was, before they started with their deeper questions, subtly trying to establish her backstory for their latest feature. Therese didn't take the bait. She'd learned to spot who was genuine and who was trying to make money off of her.   
  
Sometimes, when they knew they'd been caught out, they would ask Therese outright about Carol. She always told them the same thing. That she knew as much as they did.  
  
Therese had become one of the millions who learned everything she knew about Carol from the internet, or the news, or TV talk shows. As fall dragged on into winter, though, the content became scarce, because the truth was that nobody had anything new to share. Carol Aird had become a recluse. Everybody knew where she was, of course. She was at home in LA. The problem was, no one had seen her leave that house since the scandal broke. And as the months passed, people began to lose faith that she would ever return to the public eye.   
  
Therese still saw her often, on the streets of New York, on sidewalks bathed in the golden light of summer sun. But she was just imagining things. Now her world was dull and dreary, the gloomy grey skies above crying as often as she did.   
  
She approached McElroy's slowly, savouring those last few minutes to herself. Dannie would be there now, alone probably. The bar wouldn't open for another half an hour.   
  
Today she was working a split-shift, going home for a few hours in the late afternoon to nap before everyone came to work the late shift. It was New Year's Eve, one of the busiest nights of the year, and after they closed the bar at two o'clock in the morning, they would go clubbing until dawn. It was a tradition, one Therese looked forward to every year. Today, though, an uneasiness stirred in her stomach as she searched within her for the excitement she knew she should be feeling. It was still missing, buried deep inside some part of her that, these days, was too difficult to reach. It wasn't a surprise. She found it difficult to get excited about anything anymore.   
  
She drained the last of her coffee and tossed the empty paper cup into a trash can. Then she leaned hard on the wood of the door and stepped into the shelter of McElroy's, taking off her headphones and shoving them into her bag. She looked up, expecting Dannie's beaming face welcoming her with his usual enthusiasm. But he wasn't there.  
  
Therese almost jumped out of her skin. There was no one behind the bar, just a lonely woman sitting with her back to Therese, an unmistakable cloak of black, wavy hair tumbling down over a grey wool coat.  
  
Genevieve turned around. Therese was pinned by her piercing blue eyes, caught like a deer in the headlights. The older woman got up wordlessly, stalking over to Therese slowly, purposefully, in her black high-heeled boots. She stood in front of her, arms folded, and for a moment the two women stared each other down, with Therese unsure of what she would do next, but reluctant to make the first move. Then Genevieve broke out into a smile, and wrapped her arms around Therese, pulling her into a hug.   
  
The younger woman stiffened, at first, shocked by this sudden display of affection from Gen, one of the least affectionate people she knew. They had never hugged before. But the scent of her perfume transported her into another world, another time, in which they were still friends. They _were_ still friends, she supposed, even after these months apart. She hugged her back, smiling into her hair.   
  
Genevieve pulled away and gently lifted Therese's chin with her fingertips, eyes darting across her face, as if she was assessing her.   
  
'You look terrible', she declared after a moment.   
  
Therese laughed. _It's good to see you too, Gen._  
  
'I _feel_ terrible', she admitted as they walked back towards the bar and sat down.   
  
'I mean, I knew it hit you hard'. Gen never took her eyes off her, watching her worriedly, as if she might shatter into pieces.   
  
Therese nodded. 'Like a train'.   
  
Genevieve leaned one arm on the bar, nursing a tumbler of vodka. When it came to spirits, she didn't care what time of day it was. _Did someone get that for her, or did she just help herself?_ Therese wondered.   
  
Gen shifted awkwardly. 'It was hard for her too, if that makes you feel any better'.  
  
'It doesn't', Therese said firmly.  
  
'. . . Right'.   
  
Therese could almost feel herself unravelling at the mere implication of Carol, and she cursed herself for it. She thought she'd been getting better, but one look at Genevieve and all of it suddenly felt so close again, so raw. That distance she'd built between herself and Carol had shrunken in an instant, months of work wasted. She was back at the starting line.  
  
'Have you seen her?' Therese asked tentatively, curiosity getting the better of her.  
  
Gen shook her head. 'She rarely answers my calls. You'd think, after everything, she owes me that much. She disappears off the face of the earth and leaves _me_ to deal with the media circus like _I'm_ the famous one?'  
  
Therese smirked. 'That sounds familiar'.  
  
'I did rather well out of it, actually. My gallery has never been so popular. I've sold more art in the last few months than I normally would in a year'.  
  
'Good for you'.  
  
There was a pause as Gen took a healthy swig of vodka. 'My father spoke to the tabloids', she said after a moment, voice tainted with disbelief.  
  
Therese blinked. 'He did?'  
  
'The first time I hear anything of him in 20 years and it's in the newspaper'. She laughed humourlessly. 'They did a feature on me in the Daily Mail, in the UK. The disowned daughter of a London millionaire, homewrecker in the marriage of America's greatest film star. It all sounded very glamorous. They asked him about me. He said I was a narcissist and a borderline sociopath with a talent for seduction and manipulation'. She shot Therese a dark smile. 'He's never been so complimentary'.  
  
'Did you speak to him?'  
  
'No. It feels strange now. He knows where I am, what I do for work. He can call me, if he wants to. All he has to do is find the contact number for the gallery. But he hasn't called'.  
  
'And you're okay with that?' Therese eyed her with concern.  
  
She nodded. 'I promise', she said simply. 'What about you, baby? Have the reporters left you alone yet?'   
  
'Mostly. I think they finally realised they aren't going to get any information from me'.   
  
'The same thing happened with me', Gen said. She gave Therese a quizzical look. 'Did you ever read any of it? What they said about us?'   
  
'No. Did you?'   
  
'Yes. Everything I could find'.   
  
'Right', Therese deadpanned. 'You love gossip. I almost forgot'.   
  
Gen rolled her eyes. 'Yes, but I also thought I should keep an eye on things. If they were going to drag all three of our names through the dirt, I wanted to see them do it with accuracy'.  
  
'But that's the problem, Gen, at least for me', Therese protested. 'I didn't have to check that they weren't making shit up about me, because everything they said was based on a lie, right from the beginning. Carol _didn't_ cheat on Harge with me, everyone just assumed that was the case'.  
  
'And you never wanted to tell that to the press? To clear your name?'  
  
'I didn't want to tell them anything at all. I didn't want to get involved. I still don't. I doubt they'd believe me anyway'. She gritted her teeth. 'And somehow I don't see Carol stepping in to defend my honour'.  
  
'She was a bitch, abandoning you like that, without even an explanation'.   
  
'I didn't need an explanation', Therese threw up her arms in despair. 'She ran away because she was scared. That's it. Her perfect public persona was revealed to be a lie, and she couldn't handle the backlash. I was so naïve to think that it would turn out differently'.   
  
'Do you regret it?' Gen asked. 'Staying with her?'  
  
'Not even a little bit', Therese admitted, somewhat ashamed of how she didn't even have to hesitate. 'Those four months with her were the most beautiful of my whole life. And they were fucking hard, and I've hurt more than I ever thought possible because of them. But I'd do it all again in a heartbeat, because I loved that woman, Gen. I still love her. I'll never stop. I think she was meant for me. I feel like I was meant for her too'.   
  
'She was just too afraid of what others thought about her to see it', Gen mused. 'Too afraid of what she thought of herself. I know it. Abby knows it too'.   
  
Therese shook her head, eyes falling to her lap. 'It doesn't matter now', she mumbled. 'She's never coming back'.  
  
'I know exactly how you feel', Gen mused, her voice taking on a dreamy quality. 'You love her, and she's gone, and there's nothing you can do'.   
  
_She's thinking about Allegra_ , Therese quickly understood. She found herself growing irritated as she considered the comparison. Genevieve was wrong. The situations were nothing alike, and her pain was not the same as Therese's. Allegra was gone because of a tragic accident, and Carol was gone because it was her choice to stay away. It annoyed Therese that Gen didn't see that. That she didn't hold Carol accountable.  
  
'Carol's not dead, Gen', she snapped, the words coming out a lot harsher than she'd intended.  
  
'To you, she might as well be', Gen shot back without missing a beat.   
  
Therese stared at her in disbelief. 'You know, this isn't making me feel any better'.   
  
Gen faltered. She offered a small, apologetic smile to Therese. 'I'm not good at this stuff'.  
  
'I know', Therese retorted. 'You don't have to be. I didn't ask you to come over here and comfort me'.  
  
'No, you didn't, but I'm here now, because I still care about you', Gen fired back, a hard edge to her voice. 'It's the last day of this shitty year, I thought I should at least check on you. You didn't have to cut us out completely, you know. We would have stood by you'.  
  
Now it was Therese's turn to falter. She shifted uncomfortably. 'It just didn't feel right, seeing you'.   
  
'I know. I get it. That's why Abby hasn't brought Rindy to see you'.   
  
Therese felt a pang of guilt at the mention of the little girl's name. Her smallest friend, who'd had her life turned upside-down. Therese wondered if Rindy blamed her for any of it.   
  
'How is she?' she asked tentatively.  
  
Gen sighed. 'She's not herself. I took her to the MoMA, a few weeks ago. We used to go there together a lot, just me and her. She liked that I could teach her about the paintings. But it wasn't the same. She was so quiet. She barely said a word, the whole time'.  
  
'Do you see her often?'  
  
'Not really. Harge won't let me anywhere near her, for obvious reasons, but Abby sometimes leaves her with me for an afternoon. It's our little secret. Abby needs a break too. She's been more of a mother to Rindy than Carol has lately'.  
  
'When did Rindy last see Carol?'  
  
'In early November. Abby convinced Harge to let her take Rindy to LA. He said yes, because, honestly, I think he's starting to regret what he did. He's got Rindy, and he's got her feet firmly on the ground in New York, like he wanted, but she's miserable. He robbed his own daughter of her mother'.  
  
Therese felt like crying, imagining the loneliness and confusion the little girl must be feeling. All this time, she'd been so absorbed in her own grief that she barely gave a thought to what other things had changed, which other lives had been altered.   
  
'This is so messed up, Gen', Therese said hopelessly. 'I mean, I figured she'd try to hide. But now she's so estranged that she won't even come to see Rindy?'   
  
Gen nodded in agreement. 'I think the problem was even bigger than we first thought', she deadpanned.   
  
'What are we supposed to do about it now? What _can_ we do?'   
  
'. . . I don't know'.   
  


* * *

Therese was walking again, the streets alive with the spirit of celebration, the noise of cheering and laughter. But she was alone, hands in her pockets, looking down at the sidewalk, oblivious to all of it.   
  
She had left her friends outside the bar, telling them she just didn't feel like partying tonight. They made their disappointment known, but in truth, this was what everyone had expected. This was who she was now. She cancelled plans, over and over again, and they let her get away with it every time. She saw that she was driving a wedge between herself and the only family she'd ever known, but she just couldn't help herself. She was ashamed of how she let them down, and so she punished herself by isolating herself even more. It was a vicious cycle, but it had become her routine, and she was too accustomed to it now to break out.  
  
Tonight, though, she had her reasons. Genevieve's visit had thrown her into disarray, and she'd barely been able to make it through the shift with her sanity still intact, pouring drinks on autopilot, never saying a word to anyone. She was sure she hadn't contributed much to the tips.   
  
She still had Genevieve's new cell phone number in her back pocket. On a sudden impulse, she snatched out the scrap of paper, as if it was burning a hole through her jeans. She tore it up, dropping the pieces into a trash can as she passed, snowflakes falling onto a heap of garbage. She wouldn't call Gen. She wouldn't see her, unless Gen came looking for her. If Therese never made the first move, soon enough Gen would take the hint and leave her alone. That was the way it had to be, unfortunate as it was. Genevieve was a tie to Carol, one she had to sever if she was ever going to be free of her binds.  
  
Back at her apartment, she poured the last of yesterday's bottle of red wine into a glass, and lit a candle in her bedroom. After changing into her pyjamas, she climbed up onto the windowsill, hugging her knees to her chest with one arm, the glass of wine in the other.   
  
In the darkness, she thought of Carol. She was still the last thing she thought of before she went to sleep, a nightly ritual. She looked out into the velvety black of the sky, not a single star in sight, and she imagined Carol doing the same thing, from whichever Beverly Hills mansion she lived in. It was the only thing she had left to remind her that she and Carol did in fact exist on the same planet. Three hours of time difference and two and a half thousand miles apart, but under the same sky.   
  
And that was all that connected them now. They dwelled in separate realities, as they had before. That world they had created together had exploded like a supernova. Now Carol was just a woman she used to know.   
  
But tonight, Therese decided in her solitude, would be the beginning of a change. The fall had not been kind to her, but this was a new year. It was an opportunity to start again. And she so badly wanted that. She was tired of crying. She was tired of looking in the mirror at this pale, thin version of her former self. She was tired of the emptiness, of feeling a gaping hole where her heart used to be. She was tired of thinking that Carol had snatched it out when she left.   
  
She was fine before she had met Carol. Maybe she wasn't totally happy, but she was fine. Carol _didn't_ own her, even if it often felt like it. And she could be without her. So she'd work on it. She'd stop cancelling plans. She'd stop dragging her friends down all the time, and start making them laugh again. She'd take more pictures. She'd sleep peacefully at night.   
  
She'd be okay. She would still hurt, and she would still cry, but in time she'd grow numb to it. She'd move on.   
  
A dull ache throbbed her chest as she made this promise to herself, contemplating the finality it meant. But a spark of hope lit within her at the same time, because soon she wouldn't have to feel that ache anymore. Because this was her closing the cover on this short chapter of her life, one that felt like it sprawled out over thousands of pages, a love that could fill novels. It was finished, and this was goodbye.   
  
The time showed 3.04. It was just after midnight in LA.   
  
She raised her glass to the window, to the sky.   
  
'Happy new year, Carol', she whispered into the night.   
  



	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Friday! Hope everyone is safe and well. Thank you as always for the wonderful comments on the last chapter. You really make me smile. And I know some of you were expecting a knock at the door on NYE, but it's gonna play out a little differently . . .

SPRING

  
  
'Am I overthinking this?' Mirai mused, her voice muffled through the closed door.  
  
'Probably', Therese called back, pulling her pyjama top off and discarding it in a heap on the bed. She wandered over to her open closet, running her fingertips along the rack of soft t-shirts and button-ups.  
  
'I just don't wanna turn up, like, date-ready, and find out he's invited his friends along'.  
  
Therese pulled out a charcoal-grey oversized t-shirt with a picture of Kim Gordon on the front. 'Why would he invite his friends?' she asked, as she slipped the t-shirt over her head, and pulled on a pair of dark blue mom jeans.   
  
'Well, I don't know for sure if it's a date', Mirai answered.  
  
Therese brushed a comb through her tousled hair, scrutinising her face in the mirror as she did so, analysing it from a number of different angles. She was satisfied by what she saw. Maybe she was the only one who noticed it, but she discerned a subtle change in her appearance with every day that passed. Maybe her face wasn't so gaunt, harsh lines and edges that had jutted out now filled in with skin that was brighter, less pallid and dull. Or maybe her green eyes were lighter, the grey circles that lay beneath them faded.  
  
She smiled at the mirror. It felt good, seeing herself like that.  
  
'Of course it's a date', she said to Mirai as she went out into the lounge to join her.  
  
It was early. She'd usually still be sleeping after a closing shift, but for some reason she was wide awake at seven o'clock, the sunlight that seeped in through the cracks in the blind luring her out of bed. Fortunately, the same thing had happened to Mirai. She was an habitual early riser anyway, and had immediately accepted Therese's invitation to hang out.  
  
Therese found it hard to be home alone. For a while, the tiny apartment that had once been home became a prison cell of her own building. She spent far too much time there, cooped up, isolated, not eating much, lying in bed, crying into her pillow, begging sleep to take her. But, as the new year rolled in, she was in the business of reconstruction. Letting her friends back in was an important step, and once the apartment was repopulated with people, Therese couldn't bear to let them leave, afraid of slipping back into that solitary confinement. Now, she almost always had company, and while she was still working on finding the right balance, she felt she was home again.   
  
Mirai shrugged. 'I don't know. He was really vague about it. It was just like, do you wanna hang out sometime'.  
  
'That sounds like he's asking you out', Therese insisted.   
  
'I hope so', Mirai sighed longingly. 'I really like him, Tee'.  
  
Therese picked up her mug of coffee from the coffee table and slumped down on the couch next to her. 'I guessed. You never get like this'.  
  
'Get like what?'   
  
'You're all starry-eyed'.   
  
'I am not!' Mirai retorted.   
  
Therese laughed. 'Yes, you are! I don't think I've ever heard you say you "really like" anyone. You didn't even say it about Johnny, and you two were together for a year'.   
  
'Ugh, don't remind me. He called me last week'.   
  
'He did?'   
  
Mirai smirked. 'He was asking if I wanted to go out with his brothers and his really hot new girlfriend. I don't know why he thinks I want to be friends with him'.  
  
'Yeah, he was a total asshole to you'.   
  
'And now he's trying to show off his girlfriend, like I care. He just wants to prove that he's fine after I dumped him'.  
  
'You definitely won the break-up', Therese assured her. 'Remember when he showed up at the bar every single night for two weeks begging you to take him back?'   
  
'And when that didn't work, he kept coming because it meant I had to serve him. Are all men like this, or just the ones I date?'   
  
Therese held up her hands in apology. 'You're asking the wrong girl'.   
  
Mirai sighed. 'I need José. I used to talk to him about all this stuff at work. And now I'm stuck asking a lesbian for guy advice'.   
  
Therese laughed. 'Well, I'll try to help you, even if I can't give good advice. Anyway, we're seeing José tomorrow, aren't we?'   
  
'I think so. It's just not the same any more'.  
  
'Yeah', Therese smiled sadly. 'I know'.  
  
José had left McElroy's three weeks earlier. He was now getting so many bookings for his drag shows that he was performing more nights than he was bartending. He didn't exactly want to leave, but his dream career was taking off, and he would have been a fool not to run with it. That's what they all told him, anyway.   
  
So the family was down one member - at least in the family business. Phil and Dannie picked up the slack by working overtime, reluctant to pay a new bartender, though they both knew they'd have to hire one soon. And José was as close as ever to the group, he just wasn't as present as he used to be. In three weeks, it already felt as if so much had changed in their dynamic.   
  
But they couldn't stay forever. Therese knew that, one by one, they'd all have to move on. Even Phil and Dannie had plans to sell up eventually. And Mirai, who complained now about José's absence, would surely be the next to go. Last summer, when Therese's associations saw them all swanning around with high society, Mirai made it her business to obtain the contacts of high-flyers in the fashion industry, imposing herself in their conversations like she ought to be there. Soon she had a small network, and by January she completed a short internship at W Magazine. It was only a matter of time until she landed a permanent position.   
  
As for Therese, her horizons were empty. Bright enough, but, for now, empty. She'd had her shot at the extraordinary, and it hadn't worked out. Maybe this was all she was destined for. She'd work at McElroy's until Phil and Dannie closed it, and she'd spend the rest of her days working in restaurants and coffee shops while her camera collected dust on a high shelf in her bedroom.  
  
'Don't worry', she assured Mirai. 'I'll be at the bar forever. At least, until way after you leave'.   
  
Mirai smiled. 'I'm counting on it. I want to be next. I don't think I can handle another one of you leaving'.  
  
'It does feel like the band is breaking up', Therese admitted, but not before the sound of her phone vibrating on the coffee table disrupted her. She leaned over to pick it up.   
  
'It's Dannie', she told Mirai, then held the phone up to her ear. 'Hey', she answered.   
  
'You're awake, thank God', he replied urgently.  
  
'Yeah, what's up?'   
  
'Something crazy's happening. Abby Gerhard just called me'.  
  
Therese froze. _Abby._ She hadn't heard that name in a while. 'She called you?'

'Yeah. Well, she called the bar, good thing I was here waiting for deliveries. Anyway, you need to turn on the TV right now'.  
  
She frowned. 'What's going on?'  
  
'Tee, Carol's on Good Morning America'.   
  
She felt her heart stop momentarily. The words echoed in her head, but she was drawn to one word like a moth to a flame. _Carol, Carol, Carol_.   
  
'Woah, okay, yeah', she muttered, almost incoherently, when she regained her ability to speak.   
  
'I'll talk to you later', Dannie said.  
  
Therese opened her mouth to respond, but he'd already gone. The words hadn't yet formed on her tongue. She just lowered the phone, and went over to the small television in the corner, like she was on autopilot. She picked up the remote from the shelf and turned on the TV.  
  
Mirai gave her a strange look. ''Tee, what are you doing?'   
  
'What channel is Good Morning America on?'  
  
'I don't know, I don't watch it'.  
  
She flickered frantically from one channel to the next, until she found what she was looking for.   
  
Therese gasped. Sure enough, there she was. _Her_ Carol. She was sitting there in a navy pinstripe suit, one leg crossed over the other, gesturing with her hands and talking and _living_. This was the first time Therese had seen a moving image of her since she walked out of Abby's apartment in tears, last September. Therese felt she had aged a hundred years since then, but Carol was mostly unchanged. She was a little thinner now, and her hair was a little longer, falling just past her shoulders. But she was as beautiful as ever.  
  
CAROL AIRD TELLS ALL was written on the banner across the bottom of the screen. Therese sank to the ground in front of the TV, sitting cross-legged, staring up at it with all the awe and wonder of a kid watching cartoons on a Saturday morning.   
  
'Holy shit!' Mirai exclaimed.  
  
'Shhh!' Therese scolded, her eyes never leaving the screen. She turned up the volume.   
  
The shot switched back to the interviewer as she began a new question. 'So you married your husband when you were 25, is that correct?'  
  
'Yes, I was 25, and we'd been together for two years', Carol replied.   
  
_Her_ voice. Hearing it again sent shivers down Therese's spine.   
  
'Were you in love?' the interviewer asked.   
  
'Of course. Maybe it was a rash decision, for us to get married so soon, but that's what we wanted to do, at the time'.  
  
'And your parents supported you?'  
  
'They were delighted, because they thought my marrying a New Yorker would keep me in the city, instead of trying to make it in Hollywood', she explained. 'They also thought it meant I was on the path to a more traditional life'.  
  
'Because you were marrying a man?'  
  
'That's correct'.  
  
'So they knew before you got married that you were interested in women?'  
  
Carol nodded. 'Yes, I came out to them when I was 21. Back then, I thought that it was the right thing to do, because I was still figuring things out myself, and I thought that if I told them it would be more out in the open'. Her voice turned bitter. 'I wound up wishing I hadn't said anything'.  
  
'So they disapproved?' the interviewer questioned.  
  
Carol laughed humourlessly. 'They were horrified. By then our relationship was already strained, because I had decided that I wanted to become an actress, and I had enrolled in Juilliard. But now I had disappointed them because of the person I was, not because of something I had done. It hurt'.  
  
The interviewer nodded slowly, narrowing her eyes, observing Carol like a psychiatrist would their patient. 'Would you say that their disapproval had a profound effect on you?'  
  
'Oh, absolutely', Carol said fervently. 'They had their ways of chipping away at me, until I grew to see myself, in some ways, as they did - as unnatural and immoral. It was cruel, but at the time I guess I believed that kind of treatment was normal'.  
  
'Was your husband also aware that you weren't only attracted to men?'  
  
'Yes, he knew. But as soon as we got together he swept it under the carpet as if it didn't matter. It almost became a taboo, something we would never speak about'.  
  
'Do you regret staying with him?'  
  
'I regret that I didn't stand up for myself. I don't regret marrying him, because if I didn't, I wouldn't have my daughter'.  
  
'When did you realise that you were no longer in love with him?'  
  
Carol sighed. 'A few years into our marriage. I suppose it was when my career really took off, and I started travelling a lot for different projects and press appearances. He was unhappy with how little time I spent at home, and how little control he had over me as his wife. We argued about it, so I went out even more than I had to, and we would argue some more'.  
  
The interviewer shifted slightly in her seat. 'So, we fast-forward until around two years ago . . .'  
  
Carol nodded, clearly understanding where this was going.   
  
'You had an affair'.  
  
'I did', Carol said without hesitation.   
  
Therese's heart leapt. She hadn't known what to expect, but it certainly wasn't that. She never thought she'd be hearing Carol admit it with such confidence, such ownership of what she'd done.  
  
'What happened there?' the interviewer prompted.  
  
'Well, I won't say too much, out of respect to the other woman, but I will say that I shouldn't have done it', Carol asserted. 'I was in a vulnerable place, and I needed someone, but I should have had the decency to leave my husband first'.  
  
'Who was Genevieve Cantrell to you?'  
  
'She was my best friend. She still is'.  
  
'Is that why you went to her? Because you trusted her?'  
  
'It's complicated', Carol said vaguely. 'But, yes, that's the easiest way of putting it'.  
  
'And did it matter that she was a woman?'  
  
'No, I don't think it did', she admitted. 'If I had that same relationship with a male friend, I might have done the same. This is what I hope people will understand. My marriage ended because I had fallen out of love and I cheated. I handled it badly, and I'm sorry for that, but it had nothing to do with me wanting to be with women. I was bisexual before I married Harge, I was when I was with him, and I still am now'.  
  
'Then why did you hide it for so long?'  
  
Carol sighed. 'A number of reasons. Partly because I thought my career would suffer for it. Partly for the benefit of my husband and my daughter. I wanted to protect them from . . . criticism'.  
  
'And there's been a lot of criticism since you were outed, from intolerant people', the interviewer added sympathetically.  
  
'Exactly. I knew it would be the case. But I was selfish too. I wanted to protect myself from that criticism, and the only way I could do that was staying silent. The thought of having the world know the truth about what I considered to be a very private part of my life was absolutely terrifying to me, especially when it was something even I was never confident or comfortable with'.  
  
'Would you say you're more comfortable now?'  
  
'I'm working on it', Carol said hopefully. 'I've been in therapy, which has helped a lot, I wish I'd done it sooner. I've been thinking a lot, about how I want to make things right'.  
  
'And why is now the right time to speak out?'  
  
'Because, whether I wanted it or not, I have a responsibility now. If I continue to hide, to stay silent, what kind of message am I sending to other queer people, especially to the ones who haven't yet come out? I don't want anyone to see silence as an option. I never wanted that, and I'm sorry it's taken this long for me to speak out'.  
  
'What would you say to those people?'  
  
Carol thought for a moment. 'I would say that every journey is different, but no journey is easy, and that's something every queer person has to accept. As a bisexual woman married to a man, I enjoyed the privileges of passing as straight while some of my best friends had abuse hurled at them in the street for simply holding their partners' hand. Being an out queer person is difficult, and I shyed away from that life for so long because I was afraid'.   
  
'And that difficulty is elevated when you're someone in the public eye', the interviewer acknowledged.  
  
'Exactly. Because millions of people will judge you, for better or for worse. I became obsessed with that thought'. Her face turned dark. 'I let it ruin something really special'.   
  
'You're referring to your relationship with Therese Belivet?' the interviewer asked tentatively.  
  
Therese felt as though all the breath had been knocked out of her. Her whole body tensed.  
  
Carol nodded. 'Yes', she admitted, a tinge of sadness in her voice.  
  
'When did you two become involved?'   
  
'After Harge and I were over. We never cheated'.   
  
'A lot of people assumed that', the interviewer reminded her.  
  
'I know. But it's not true'. Carol's eyes clouded over. 'I wasn't expecting to find someone so soon after my marriage ended', she said candidly. 'With her it was magic, but the timing was wrong. I still wasn't ready to come out. So I stayed with her anyway, because I was in love with her, but I kept her hidden. I made her feel like I was ashamed of her'.  
  
'And when did it end?'   
  
'We stopped speaking when I left New York. But . . . to tell the truth, it didn't end. At least not for me. I said before I was thinking about how I can make things right. She's included in that'.   
  
Therese gasped, unaware she'd been holding her breath. She couldn't believe what she'd just heard.   
  
'What are your plans now?' the interviewer asked brightly, trying to bring the mood back up. 'Do you have any new projects in the pipeline?'   
  
Carol smiled then. 'Hopefully, yes. I'm going back to LA tomorrow, and I'm ready to work again'.   
  
'We all wish you the best of luck', the interviewer said sincerely. 'Carol Aird, thank you for joining us this morning'.   
  
'Thank you', Carol replied with a polite nod.  
  
The shot switched back to the interviewer as she began to announce the next segment, but Therese had already stopped listening. She just turned around silently to see Mirai staring back at her, mouth hanging open, in the same state of shock as she was. She felt grateful to have Mirai here with her, because at least someone else was a witness to what they had just watched. Without her, Therese could have easily been convinced that she had dreamt the whole thing.  
  
Because, in some ways, it was what she had dreamt of.   
  
Carol had finally taken back ownership of her own narrative. She had liberated herself. She was free.  
  



	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New early chapter for you! Remember that I'm loosely following both the Carol and Notting Hill plot lines, so I think you might already have guessed where I'm going with this in the last few chapters . . .

_Yeah, it's different now,_

  
_Yeah it's different now you're old_

  
  
  
'Hello?'  
  
The voice on the phone was another ghost from the past, another memory brought to life. The eerie sensation was one Therese never got used to, and it sent a jolt of fear shooting through her every time.  
  
Mirai was looking up at her expectantly from the couch as she paced up and down. She nodded at her in encouragement.  
  
Therese took the plunge. 'Hey, Abby. It's me'.  
  
There was silence for a moment, before she heard Abby's exhale, as if she'd been holding her breath. 'It's such a relief to hear your voice'.  
  
'Why?'  
  
'Well, you saw it didn't you? That's why you're calling'.  
  
'Yeah', Therese said flatly. 'I saw it'.  
  
'And?'  
  
'It was . . . unbelievable'. Therese shook her head, still at a loss for words. 'I don't even know what to say'.  
  
'Then don't say anything', Abby said assertively. 'Just come to The Plaza'.  
  
'The Plaza?'  
  
'I'm dropping her off there now', Abby explained. 'You know the room. It's the place where you first met'.  
  
Therese sighed, running a hand through her hair in frustration. 'I don't know, Abby'.  
  
'Please, Therese. She wants to see you. She's been trying to work up the courage to reach out, but . . . I know maybe you don't want to see her, but please. Just give her the chance to say her piece'.  
  
Therese faltered. Carol had just told the nation that she intended to make it up to her, but she hadn't considered it might be so soon. The prospect of facing her was terrifying, and she hadn't had any time to mentally prepare for such a momentous occasion, one she never thought would come to be. But could she really refuse?   
  
'Okay', Therese agreed, curiosity winning out. 'I'll come'.  
  
Abby breathed a sigh of relief. 'Thank you. She'll be there in 20 minutes, alone. The codename at reception is Mrs Banner'.  
  
Therese smiled to herself. _Mrs Banner_. Only Rindy could have chosen that name.  
  
There was just one more thing Therese wanted to add. 'Can you not tell her I'm coming, Abby? I don't want her to . . . expect anything'.   
  
_I want to catch her off guard_ , was what Therese truly meant. _I don't want to give her the chance to prepare_.   
  
'No problem', Abby agreed, without questioning. 'I'll talk to you later'.  
  


* * *

  
The Plaza hadn't changed at all since Therese's last visit. It was still flamboyant and ostentatious, with its intricate arched doorway, high ceilings and enormous crystal chandelier. But it wasn't that hostile environment it had once been, it no longer seemed to exclude her in its grandeur.   
  
So it was she who had changed. She felt so much older now, so much wiser. She'd gone through so much since she'd last been contained in these four walls. She'd fallen deeply in love. She knew now what it was like to look at someone else and see her whole life, a part of her being ripped out and given away. She knew what it was like to lose that someone. She'd had her heart broken and come out the other side. By no means stronger, but as whole as she could be.  
  
She stalked over to the check-in desks with all the confidence and determination of a woman on a mission.  
  
'I'm looking for Mrs Banner', she told the receptionist.  
  
He looked at her curiously over the rims of his glasses, as if he was trying to remember where he'd seen her before.  
  
'Mrs Banner isn't expecting anyone', he replied matter-of-factly.  
  
Therese folded her arms. 'Maybe not, but I think she'll want to see me', she retorted.  
  
A flash of recognition crossed his face as she continued to stare at him defiantly. 'Of course', he conceded.  
  
So Therese was sent upstairs with a bellboy and led to the hallway of the twentieth floor, a routine she was well accustomed to. And like always, she thanked the bellboy in the elevator and asked that she be left alone. She didn't want this one witnessing whatever was about to happen at the door to the suite. Especially as he had been sneaking glances at her all the way up here. Therese was sure he had successfully identified her.  
  
Faced with the closed door, she took a moment to shake out her arms, bouncing from one foot to the other, like a boxer preparing for a match. She was really here. It was unbelievable, unprecedented. She breathed in, then out again. And then she stopped breathing completely.  
  
She knocked on the door.  
  
In the silence, the soft sound of footsteps grew from barely audible to easily identifiable, until it seemed that the woman behind the wall was right there with her.  
  
The door opened. Therese's breath hitched as Carol's blue-grey eyes caught her own, wide and startled. Carol's hand flew to her mouth, stifling a gasp, the other arm gripping the door for support.   
  
And then, for the first time, Carol cried in front of Therese.  
  


* * *

  
Sitting on that velvet blue couch reminded Therese so vividly of their first meeting. She was sitting up straight, perched awkwardly on the edge, unable to relax, while Carol stood up, leaning against the fireplace. It was as if no time had passed at all, a snapshot of what felt to her now like another era, the only thing missing being Rindy at her side.   
  
Carol had stopped crying, but her eyes kept flickering about Therese's body, from her hair to her arms to her shoes. To her eyes. Carol's own were disbelieving. It was as is she were trying to drink all of Therese in before she might dissolve into thin air, too good to be true.  
  
Therese spoke first.  
  
'How long have you been in town?' she asked.   
  
'Three days. I had a couple of meetings scheduled'.  
  
'How come you ended up on TV?'  
  
'GMA have been chasing me for weeks, since they heard I'm going back to work'. Carol shrugged. 'So I decided to just do it'.  
  
'I'm proud of you', Therese said earnestly. 'You really put everything out there'.  
  
Carol smiled gratefully. 'It felt like the right time to talk'.  
  
'How did it feel?'  
  
'Scary as hell. Did you not see me shaking?'  
  
'No. I think you held it together really well'.  
  
'I've been practicing for months. Even that couldn't have prepared me for it'.  
  
Therese raised an eyebrow. 'Months?'  
  
'It was around January, I guess', Carol mused. 'The paparazzi had left the end of my driveway, finally, and everything had died down'. She turned to look out of the window, wistfully, as if she could see her house all those thousands of miles away. 'I'd shut the door on the press, but I'd also shut out everyone I loved, and I'd pulled out of every project I'd signed on to. I was completely alone in that big house, and it didn't make me feel happy, or safe, or peaceful, it just made me anxious to even go outside. And I missed my life. I decided it was time to change'.  
  
Therese watched her, one head resting in her hand. 'The same thing happened to me, after New Year', she remembered. 'I decided to change too'.  
  
Carol turned back to her. 'Change what?'   
  
Therese shrugged, searching for the right words. 'The way I was thinking about life, I suppose. Always looking back on the past, feeling pessimistic about the future. The way I was behaving, too. I kept refusing my friends' offers to help me. I was acting like . . . well, I was acting like you'.  
  
'That's actually a really accurate summary of me', Carol admitted with a smirk.   
  
Therese laughed. 'Maybe not so much anymore'.  
  
Carol shrugged. 'I'm still learning. Abby and Genevieve haven't given up on me yet'. Her eyes clouded over. 'Neither has Rindy'.  
  
'Have you seen her?' Therese asked tentatively.   
  
Carol nodded. 'Yesterday. She spent the afternoon here. She was wonderful. She's grown so much'.  
  
'I bet she has', Therese smiled. 'I miss her'.  
  
'She misses you too'. She took a deep breath, as if building up to something. ' _I_ miss you. So much'.  
  
Therese faltered, her smile falling. 'Then you shouldn't have left', she said, unable to hide the trace of bitterness in her voice.  
  
'I know', Carol replied simply.   
  
Though in some ways it was what she wanted to hear, Carol's awareness of her own wrongdoings, it still irritated Therese that she could be so indifferent. She couldn't help but feel she was owed more than that.  
  
'What happened, Carol?' Therese asked. 'What happened with Harge, when he found out about me?'  
  
Carol closed her eyes momentarily. 'I went to pick Rindy up, a couple of days after José's show at Ruby's', she began. 'She wasn't there. Harge was standing silently in the kitchen, and when I went in I saw the photos of us laid out across the counter. I knew then it was all over. Sure enough, he told me that it was my last chance. I could let him have Rindy, or he'd sell the photos, and the ones of me with Genevieve. I guess I knew I couldn't win, but something told me I couldn't give up yet. It was you. You kept me going, even if I knew it would destroy us both'.  
  
She looked at Therese, a quiet vulnerability etched across her face. Therese said nothing. Maybe once she would have cried at these words, but she felt no lump in her throat, no pooling of tears in her green eyes. Maybe at last she was all cried out.  
  
Carol continued.  
  
'You know what I said to Harge, when he asked me who you were? Why I was kissing some teenage dyke down an alley, is what he actually said'. Therese cringed. Carol kept going. 'I told him I was in love with you, and that I wasn't going to give up fighting for Rindy, because we were going to be a real family. You, me and her. I always knew that he was emasculated at the thought of me being with another woman, and I used that. I told him he wouldn't dare release the photos, because he was too proud. I marched out of the apartment feeling somewhat victorious, but . . . well, you know what happened next'.  
  
'So he wanted to prove you wrong', Therese said flatly.  
  
'There's that', Carol acknowledged. 'But in the end, he didn't care how the photos made him look. All he cared about was Rindy, and keeping her with him in New York'.  
  
Therese frowned, mulling over how that might have made Harge look, particularly in the eyes of those who condemned Carol after her outing. The desperate husband of an unfaithful, immoral wife, willing to do absolutely anything to have his daughter stay with him permanently. It framed him as a hero. Therese just hoped Carol didn't see it that way. She'd been under his spell for far too long.  
  
'That doesn't make it right', Therese said. 'I hope you know that'.  
  
'Of course', Carol assured her.   
  
'So . . . where does that leave you with Rindy?'  
  
Carol sighed. 'She still wants to see me, fortunately, but I don't have a say in how often Harge gives in to her requests. Things are still so tense. I have Abby, of course. She's been a kind of middle ground between the two of us for a long time, because she and Rindy are so close, and Harge has always respected that. She'll do what she can, but, ultimately, Harge still has all the power'.   
  
'And Rindy understands that?'  
  
'She's not happy about it, but, yes, she understands. There's not much more I can do right now'. She looked down at her lap. 'I've spent the past six months learning to live without her. It's something I'll just have to get used to'.  
  
Therese shifted uncomfortably as she tried to find an adequate response. There was nothing she could say to make it better. 'I'm sorry', was all that came out.  
  
Carol just smiled sadly. 'I want to be closer to her, even if it's just geographically', she said, her voice assertive, like this was a decision she was confident in. 'So . . . I've been thinking of moving to New York'.  
  
Therese blinked. 'You mean permanently?'  
  
'Well, I'll still have to spend some time in LA. But my intention is to cut back. I'd like to only take a couple of projects a year. If I did that, I could live here full time'.  
  
'I thought you'd want to pick up where you left off, with your work', Therese mumbled.  
  
'So did I. But I've had a lot of time to reflect on things. You see . . . I always loved my work, but there were times when I _needed_ it. It was a distraction. It took me away from Harge, and my disaster of a marriage. But, last summer, I found I didn't crave it like I used to, because I didn't need it when I was with you. And then it became the wrong kind of distraction. I spent all this time fucking everything up with you because I was trying to preserve my self-image, and, in turn, preserve my career. After I left you, I felt like such a fool. You made me happier than any job, or any place. I should have put you first'.  
  
'Carol, you still don't get it', Therese sighed in frustration. 'It was never about choosing, you know. I would have always supported your career, as long as it was what you wanted. You could have had both of us'.  
  
'You said you wished I'd give it up', Carol remembered.  
  
'I did', Therese admitted, 'because it would have meant that we could be together like a normal couple. But, realistically, I would never have asked you to choose. Even when you told me we couldn't be open about our relationship, when you made me feel like you were embarrassed to be seen with me, I never asked you. Wasn't that enough to prove to you that I was invested?'  
  
'Of course it was. But it still made me feel guilty, when you said that. I knew I was too wrapped up in my celebrity to be the girlfriend you deserved, even if you did stay with me anyway'.  
  
'I would have stayed', Therese promised, not that it was a promise she needed to make now. 'If you'd have let me. I told you that, the day you left. I told you I would have stood by you'.  
  
'I wish I had let you', she said pensively. 'More than anything. I know I let you down'.  
  
Therese looked her straight in her sad eyes, willing her to listen, to understand. 'You ruined me, Carol', she said gravely. 'Heartbroken doesn't cover it. I was shattered. Four months with you was enough to know that you were the person I wanted to be with forever. I thought you felt the same'.  
  
'I did'. Carol took a shaky breath. 'Actually, I still do. I was hoping, if I move to New York, you'd take me back'.  
  
Therese stalled, all the momentum she'd built up, all the confidence in her ability to hold her own in front of Carol, dashed in an instant. 'No, I don't think so', she said quickly.  
  
It was a somewhat careless response, one that she should have taken more time to think over, to word better. It surprised her at first that this was her instinctive response, to turn Carol down. But as she thought about it, as she watched the sad smile start slowly on Carol's lips, she realised that this was what she was always going to do. No, she had never expected to actually _be_ in this situation, but she had contemplated it a hundred times before, unconsciously rehearsing it over and over. She couldn't go back to her, as much as she still wanted to. Carol had taught her that she couldn't be relied upon to make promises and keep them, but Therese had made promises to herself, since Carol had left. She had promised herself that she wouldn't be so naïve again. This was her honouring that promise.  
  
'Well, that's that', Carol exhaled.   
  
She looked down at the floor for a moment, meditative. Therese watched her, desperately searching for something to say. She almost told her she was sorry, but it didn't feel right. This wasn't something she could apologise for. It would just invalidate her decision.  
  
Carol finally looked up. 'I love you', she whispered. 'Maybe you don't feel anything for me anymore, but I want you to know. I've never loved you more'.  
  
'I love you, too', Therese said earnestly, ignoring the way her heart constricted at the words. 'I always will. But love isn't enough. It wasn't last time. I can't go through that again'.  
  
Carol nodded soberly. 'I understand'.  
  
They looked at each other for a moment, trapped in the the gaze of the other, an infinite, inescapable loop. Therese almost fell right into Carol's blue-grey eyes, before she caught herself just in time. She flinched suddenly, as if waking from a dream.  
  
'I should go', she announced awkardly, knowing if she didn't leave now, perhaps she never would. And she had to leave. Her future self would thank her.  
  
'Of course'. Carol hung back while Therese gathered her purse and got up, heading for the door.   
  
Therese felt Carol follow her after a moment, sensing her presence drawing closer and closer, until Therese had one hand on the door handle. She turned around then, feeling as though it was the last time she would do so. One last look at Carol Aird, in the flesh, before she disappeared back into the celluloid existence in which Therese had previously known her. And she was sure she would see her, on the screen, because she was ready for that now.   
  
Therese looked at her. 'Don't hide anymore', she said, a final request. 'Whatever you do'.  
  
'I won't', Carol promised.  
  
Slowly, Carol reached out her arm, gently pushing a strand of hair behind Therese's ear, trailing a soft caress down the side of her face with her fingertips. Therese closed her eyes momentarily, exhaling, unconsciously leaning into her hand, her skin tingling with electricity where Carol touched it. The doubt within her wavered, seemed to flicker like a candle in the wind. But it still burned.  
  
Carol smiled. 'It was good to see you'.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always for the lovely comments on the last chapter. I think you'll like this one. I can't believe we're almost at the end of this story already!

Therese leaned back against the wall, hugging her knees to her chest, the soles of her sneakers planted firmly on the wood of the stool.  
  
She looked at her friends expectantly. ''Well?'  
  
They were dotted across the room, Lucas in one of the window seats, Mirai and Dannie sat at the bar in their burgundy shirts, ready for opening time, and Phil perched on one of the little round tables just to their right. A somber tone had descended upon them as Therese recounted her brief visit with Carol the day before with as little bias as she could, hoping not to influence their reactions too much. Now, each seemed deep in thought.  
  
Lucas spoke first. 'You did good, Tee'.  
  
'You think so?'  
  
He nodded. 'You stood up for yourself'.  
  
'Yeah, I guess I did'. She looked down at her lap, that brief wave of melancholy washing over her, as it had at regular intervals throughout the morning. 'It was hard to say no to her', she admitted. 'Really hard'.  
  
'So you should be proud that you did it', Dannie said encouragingly.  
  
'You put your own priorities above hers', Phil joined in. 'It's about time'.  
  
'Totally', Mirai agreed. 'You've been really sensible here'.  
  
'So you all agree with me?' Therese asked.  
  
A chorus of concurrence filled the air.  
  
She breathed a sigh of relief. 'Right. Good. That's what I hoped'.  
  
Suddenly the door slammed open, hitting the wall hard, causing all of them to jump. It was José, in his skinny jeans and a shirt with a palm tree pattern. Fashionably late.  
  
'What's going on?' he asked casually.  
  
'Therese just turned down Carol Aird', Phil answered.  
  
José stopped in his tracks, turning to Therese and looking at her as if she'd gone insane. 'You did _what_?'  
  
Therese blinked. 'I'm sorry?'  
  
'You fucking idiot!' he exclaimed.  
  
'No, no, no', Mirai interrupted quickly. 'We were just discussing how it's a really _good_ decision'. She nodded at him as if to reinforce her point.  
  
José looked around at his friends to find all of them nodding in agreement, glaring at him in the same way, eyes wide, trying to communicate with him without words. Therese saw it all. She started to doubt them then. _Are they just telling me what I want to hear_?  
  
'So what happened?' José asked, before she could call them out. 'What did she say to you?'  
  
Therese let her mind drift back to yesterday's conversation. 'She said that she still felt the same as she did back then, and that she hoped we could be together, if she moved here', she explained, a wistfulness in her voice. 'And the way she looked at me when I told her no . . . it was like she understood completely, like she knew I'd say that. She knew it was already too late'.  
  
'That's sad', Lucas remarked.  
  
'Yeah', Therese said flatly.  
  
'And you got your answers about what happened with her ex, why he sold the photos?' Mirai asked.  
  
Therese nodded. 'It was . . . well, I didn't expect it, actually', she confessed. 'She stood up to him. She told him she loved me, and that she wasn't gonna let him have Rindy just like that, 'cause we were gonna be a family'.  
  
Phil exhaled with a whistle. 'Wow'.  
  
'So Harge knew she wasn't gonna stop fighting unless he forced her to', Lucas observed.   
  
'Yeah'.  
  
The group fell into a sullen silence as they pondered this new information.   
  
'That's nice', Phil broke the quiet, somewhat awkwardly. 'That she was serious about a future with you, before . . .' he trailed off.  
  
'She still gave it up though, didn't she?' Therese pointed out. 'She _could_ have a had a future with me, regardless of what happened with Harge and the photos and the press. She still chose to run away'.  
  
'Well, yeah'.  
  
'And that was unforgivable', José remarked.   
  
The group mumbled in agreement, all except Dannie. He'd been quiet for a while now, sitting there with his arms folded, a pensiveness about his face. He noticed Therese watching him expectantly, and shifted in his seat, dragged out of his own thoughts.   
  
'But . . . she won't do it again'.  
  
Therese frowned at him. 'What do you mean?'  
  
'Well, all her secrets are out now', he pointed out. 'There's nothing to hide from anymore. Nothing to run away from'.  
  
'But that doesn't mean she's ready to go public with a relationship like ours'.  
  
'Well, she did just go on television and say she wanted to make things right with you. I don't think she has a problem with being out any more, nor does she have a problem with being associated with you'.  
  
Therese opened her mouth to respond, but closed it again after a moment, realising no sound had come out. She couldn't think of anything to say.  
  
'Maybe Dannie's right', Mirai interjected. 'She's had her time to hide, and she's ready to move on. Ready to move on with you'.  
  
'What are you saying?' Therese frowned.  
  
Dannie shrugged. 'Just that, after everything, she still came back to you. She must be serious. I mean, hell, if I abandoned someone the way she did, I'd never be able to face them again'.  
  
'Yeah, it's brave', Lucas admitted.  
  
The group quieted once again, unsure of what to say next. As Therese read the room, felt their hesitation, she felt a sense of panic bubbling up within her. This wasn't the reaction she'd expected from them.   
  
It meant they trusted Carol.  
  
'Do you all think I've made the wrong decision?' Therese blurted out.  
  
Each of them were avoiding her eyes, shifting in their seats, obviously uncomfortable.  
  
'I mean, José clearly does, he just called me a fucking idiot'.  
  
'Yeah', José said guiltily. 'Sorry'.  
  
'So?' she demanded.   
  
Phil sighed in frustration. 'Well, I don't know'. He gestured to the others. 'We can't know'.  
  
'Look, Therese, we'll stand by you whatever you decide, of course we will', Dannie assured her. 'We want you to be happy. But you don't exactly seem happy with what you've chosen'.  
  
The sympathy in his face as he looked at her almost made Therese break down in tears, because she could see that he understood. They all did. She could never fool them when it came to Carol.   
  
'Of course I'm not happy', she sighed, resting her head in her hand. 'I just walked away from the love of my life'.  
  
'So why did you walk away from her?' Mirai asked gently. 'You want to be together, so why did you say no?'  
  
'Because I'm scared of getting hurt again. You saw me, in winter. I was like a different person. I can't come back from that again. There won't be anyone left to come back'.  
  
'So you're saving yourself the trouble', Lucas observed.   
  
Therese nodded. 'I thought that's what I should do'.  
  
'It probably _is_ what you _should_ do', José agreed. 'But does it feel right?'  
  
 _Right_? Of course it didn't feel right! Therese thought of the feel of Carol's skin against hers, the way the simple brush of her hand against her cheek yesterday had almost driven her right back into Carol's life. How it had almost made her lose her resolve. How could it be right to throw away a connection like that?  
  
'No', Therese conceded. 'But what I'm doing is for my own protection'.  
  
'But is that more important to you than being with her?' Phil asked. 'Is protection worth it if you're not happy with the life you're protecting?'  
  
'Well, I guess not, but . . .' she trailed off.  
  
'Dannie's already pointed out that what happened before isn't going to happen again', Mirai said, 'if that's what you're afraid of'.  
  
José nodded in agreement. 'Sure, she can hurt you again, but so can anyone, in any relationship'.  
  
Then Dannie looked at Therese like he was challenging her. 'So is she worth the risk?'  
  
That panic had now spread throughout Therese's whole body as the realisation hit her. The realisation that Carol _was_ worth it. Of course she was. And it _was_ a risk, because there was still that possibility that it wouldn't work out between them. But she had to try. She'd never be able to move on if she didn't try, not when Carol was waiting for her, hand outstretched. All she had to do was take it.  
  
She hid her face in her hands. 'Shit. I've made the wrong decision, haven't I? Shit'.  
  
'Maybe', she heard her friends mumble.  
  
'I don't even have her number any more, I can't call her, I can't tell her, and she's leaving today, and I don't know when she's going, or where', the words tumbled from Therese's mouth in a barely coherent stream.  
  
'She hasn't left already, has she?' Lucas asked urgently.  
  
'I don't know', Therese cried.  
  
'José, did you drive here?' Dannie asked suddenly. Everyone turned to him.  
  
'Yeah', José responded, raising an eyebrow. 'Why?'  
  
'Let's go to The Plaza!' he exclaimed.  
  
'Are you crazy?' Mirai scolded.  
  
'Maybe. But if she's still there . . .'  
  
Therese nodded in understanding. 'Then I can tell her I changed my mind'.  
  


* * *

  
Traffic had never concerned Therese that much, as she didn't have a car and was able to walk from her apartment to most of the places she frequented. Today, though, she felt the stress of every commuter who'd ever sat behind the wheel in the gridlock, watching the clock tick by as they barely moved, knowing they were going to be late.  
  
José and his drag queen friends shared this beat-up old van, using it mostly to transport their wardrobes between various clubs around the city, and so it wasn't exactly prepared for more than one passenger, let alone five. Therese now found herself was huddled in the back with Lucas, Dannie and Mirai, among plastic boxes of sequined dresses and overflowing bags of high heels.  
  
Phil sat in the passenger seat, yelling out directions to José, who swerved between the lanes and shouted apologies out of the window to annoyed drivers. The noise of the road, the low rumble of the van's engine, and the urgent conversations of her friends all seemed deafening to Therese, a soundtrack of intensity that assaulted her ears and set her on edge. She couldn't relax, not in this chaos. Not when she knew they were racing towards Carol, who might not be there when they arrived.  
  
It was only a 10 minute journey, but it took 20 just to crawl up 5th Avenue, the traffic thickening even more as they neared Central Park. As they reached the corner of West 59th Street, Therese decided she was done with driving.  
  
'José, we can walk from here', she said suddenly. 'Lucas, open the door'.  
  
''What are _we_ supposed to do?' Phil asked.  
  
'Just drive around in circles for a while', Therese answered quickly, too preoccupied to care. 'Come on!'  
  
Lucas, then Dannie, then Therese, then Mirai each clambered out of the van and into the standstill traffic, Mirai sliding the door shut behind them. They hurried to the sidewalk, earning some strange looks off other drivers, and began running in the direction of The Plaza. Therese didn't care who was watching them, because, as the cool breeze hit her face, her hair streaming behind her, she felt a kind of freedom she hadn't known in the longest time. She was in control of her future, now she finally knew what she wanted from it, and she was closing in with every smack of her sneakers against the concrete.   
  
With her friends flanking her like a trio of bodyguards, Therese burst through the entrance to The Plaza, crossing the lobby with an urgency she'd never had before.   
  
A young receptionist with an elegant French braid noticed her approach. 'Good morning', she smiled thinly. 'How can I help?'  
  
'I'm looking for Mrs Banner', Therese said breathlessly.  
  
The receptionist's smile faded. 'I'm afraid Mrs Banner has already checked out'.  
  
Therese's heart sank, dragging with it all the hope she'd felt just moments before. _I'm too late_ , she thought miserably.  
  
She turned to her friends. 'Game over', she said anticlimactically.   
  
Dannie shook his head determinedly. 'Not yet it isn't'. He took a step closer to the check-in desk. 'Do you know where she went?' he asked the receptionist.  
  
'I don't know if I should be sharing that information', she responded awkwardly.  
  
Dannie rolled his eyes. 'Oh, come on, you know who this is, don't you?' he nodded his head in Therese's direction. 'You've seen her around here enough'.  
  
'Well, yes', she admitted, eyes flickering to Therese.   
  
'Then you must be able to figure out why we're here', Lucas interjected. 'Why we need to find out where she went'.   
  
The receptionist pursed her lips, contemplating. 'Okay', she conceded. 'My co-worker arranged a car about an hour ago to take her to the ViacomCBS building. She has a meeting, I believe'.  
  
Therese breathed a sigh of relief. 'An hour ago. That must mean she's still there, right?'  
  
'Unless it's a very short meeting, yeah', Lucas agreed.   
  
'Then we go to ViacomCBS'. Therese looked to her friends, who each nodded in approval.  
  
She turned back to the receptionist. 'Thanks for your help', she said gratefully.  
  
'I guess you're going to get her back', the young woman smiled nervously, as if she were aware of her imposition.   
  
'Something like that', Therese smiled back at her.  
  


* * *

  
After a frantic phone call with Phil, an agitated few minutes spent waiting on the sidewalk outside The Plaza, and a near-death experience dashing into the road, the four of them were once again crammed into the back of José's van. The level of stress seemed to have risen even further now that they didn't have as clear a destination. Yes, they knew where they were going, but would Carol still be there? How would they know? And how would they get into the building if they did somehow manage to confirm that she was in there?  
  
It was just a five minute drive to the ViacomCBS building, but it was also on Broadway, where the traffic would yet again prove to be a problem. The van was a lonely ship in a sea of yellow taxis, the relentless sound of car horns droning on and on, torturously loud.  
  
'I hate driving here', José mumbled to himself as they crawled through Times Square.   
  
'Hey, Tee!' Phil said suddenly. 'Is that Carol?'  
  
Therese sprang into action. 'Where?' she asked frantically.  
  
'Straight up ahead, look!' he pointed beyond the windscreen at the busy sidewalk.  
  
The three in the back moved out of the way so that Therese could lean through the two front seats, getting a closer look. Sure enough, there was Carol, hovering in the doorway with a tall, greying man in a navy suit, facing the building. She wore a lacy white dress with t-shirt sleeves and a skirt that fell just past her knees, with white sneakers and her trademark large sunglasses. Maybe her identity wasn't so obvious to any passer-by, but Therese just knew it was her. Carol was no angel, but that curling halo of golden hair gave her away every time.   
  
'Yeah, that's her', Therese confirmed. 'Pull over, José!'  
  
On her command, José swung the van towards the sidewalk with a jolt that send the back passengers flying backwards. A chorus of angry car horns chastised them from outside.  
  
'Shit, José!' Lucas complained, rubbing his head.   
  
But Therese was already on her feet, sliding open the door and clambering out into the street. She started running, that feeling of freedom surging within her once again, gaining strength in every stride.  
  
Up ahead, Carol had kissed this man on the cheek and was waving him goodbye, crossing the sidewalk to where a waiting driver held open the back door of a sleek black Bentley.   
  
'Carol!' she shouted, ignoring the stares of passers-by. 'Carol!'  
  
The older woman hadn't noticed her. She slid gracefully into the backseat of the car and the driver closed the door behind her. But Therese was already close enough.   
  
'Carol!'  
  
The driver noticed her approaching the car, but before he could do anything to restrain her, she was banging on the blacked-out windows, calling out Carol's name over and over.  
  
After a moment, the window rolled down, revealing Carol's perfect, stunned face looking up at her. 'Therese, what are you doing here?'   
  
'Don't go', Therese said automatically, the words she should have spoken already, finally released into the world. 'Well, I mean, I know you have to go at some point. But stay today'.  
  
Carol gaped at her for a few seconds, before remembering where they were. 'Get in the car', she told her, gently pushing the door open from the inside, allowing Therese to grab it and hold it open just enough for her to slip through the crack. 'Eric, can you give us a moment?' she asked her driver, who simply nodded in consent and closed the front door, leaving them alone in the car, a peaceful bubble in the middle of Broadway.  
  
Therese turned to her. 'Carol, I want you to stay in New York', she told her confidently.  
  
Carol frowned, confusion etched across her face. 'What are you saying?'  
  
'That I made a mistake when I turned you down. I _do_ want to be with you, Carol. More than anything. I just figured I shouldn't, after everything'.  
  
Tears had pooled in Carol's eyes in a matter of seconds. 'I thought I was too late, I was so devastated', she confessed. 'I thought you'd moved on'.  
  
'I tried. And failed, evidently'.  
  
'So if I move here . . .'  
  
'I'd like to give us another try'.  
  
'You really mean that?' Carol whispered, eyes shining with hope.  
  
Therese shrugged coolly. 'Well, you said you want me back . . .'  
  
'Of course!' Carol cried. 'God, yes, angel, there's nothing I want more'.  
  
Therese smiled. 'Then I'm yours'.  
  
Carol smiled too, laughing almost, overcome with the euphoria of having her life changed forever with a few unexpected words. Then she faltered, sitting up straighter, regaining her composure. 'Things will be different this time', she promised, nodding determinedly.  
  
'Good', Therese responded simply. ''Cause if they're not, I'm outta here'.  
  
She didn't say it to teach Carol a lesson, or to gain an upper hand. She just felt that she owed it to herself. If she wasn't going to enter this relationship with that boundary made crystal clear, both for herself and for Carol, then it wasn't worth entering at all. She'd been so obsessed with Carol's power over her, her ability to hurt her again should she go back to her, but she was only now realising that she had some say in the matter too. If Therese found herself travelling that same winding road, this time she'd recognise the signposts along the way, and she'd make an early exit.   
  
'I know, I know', Carol assured her, seeming to understand. 'But you don't have to worry. Because I'm never letting you go again'.  
  
Therese edged along the seat, her hand on Carol's thigh moving up to her waist, pulling her closer. 'So don't', she whispered.  
  
The space between them closed, finally, like two pieces of a puzzle snapping into place, lips meeting like the embracing bodies of two lovers reunited after a long separation, a homecoming that had happened countless times, and would happen over and over, through past lifetimes, past centuries, for as long as time had existed, and would continue to exist. Kissing Carol, the one thing in this life Therese was certain she had been made to do.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will be the last chapter in this timeline. The next and final chapter will be an epilogue. Thanks as always for reading.

SUMMER

  
  
'Can you get a dog?' Rindy asked, out of the blue.   
  
Therese looked at Rindy, who was looking up questioningly at her mother. The little girl walked between them, one hand in Therese's, the other in Carol's, as they wandered along the peaceful West Village street, beneath the shade of the uniform trees that lined the sidewalk.  
  
'Can I get a dog?' Carol repeated, shooting Therese a bemused glance over Rindy's head.  
  
'Yeah. Dad won't let me have one, but if _you_ get one, then it can be mine some of the time'.  
  
Carol pulled a face. 'I don't think it's a good idea, Rindy'.  
  
'Why not?' the little girl frowned.  
  
'Because I don't have the time to take it for walks, and there's no outdoor space for it to play'.  
  
Rindy turned to Therese, that same pleading expression on her face. 'Well, can _you_ get one, Therese?'  
  
'Same problem', Therese shrugged. 'Sorry, kid. What about a lizard instead?'  
  
'Cool! Rindy grinned, eyes widening in excitement.  
  
Carol looked at Therese in alarm. 'Therese, she's not getting a lizard'.  
  
'Why not?'  
  
'You have to feed it live insects!' she exclaimed. 'I can't bear the thought of intentionally bringing mealworms and crickets into the apartment'.  
  
'Fair point', Therese conceded.  
  
'Maybe we'll start off small', Carol said brightly, trying to steer the subject in another direction. 'How about a goldfish?'  
  
'It's better than nothing', Rindy mumbled, obviously disappointed.  
  
They slowed outside a quaint brownstone like any other on the street, tucked in side by side, identical sets of steps leading up to the front door. This was where Harge had taken up permanent residence in the city, and where Rindy lived with him.  
  
'Well, here we are, home', Carol announced, the three of them turning to face the brownstone.  
  
Therese felt Rindy let go of her hand.  
  
The little girl turned to her mother first. 'Thanks for today', she said, almost bashfully.  
  
'Thank _you_ , my sweet girl', Carol smiled. 'What are you doing later?'  
  
'Dad said we can watch a movie'.  
  
'Lucky you! Now, don't forget Aunt Abby's picking you up after karate tomorrow'.  
  
'Yeah, I know'.  
  
Carol put a hand on her shoulder. 'You be good for her, okay?'  
  
'Always am', Rindy said sardonically.  
  
Carol narrowed her eyes. 'I think we both know that's not true'.  
  
Rindy laughed. 'I love you, Mom'.  
  
'I love you, too', Carol said, leaning down to wrap her arms around her daughter. She planted a soft kiss on the top of her head. 'See you very soon'.  
  
As Rindy was released from the arms of her mother, the little girl turned to Therese. Therese leaned into her hug.  
  
'Bye, Therese', Rindy said, before adding in a whisper, 'can we talk more about the lizard next time, please?'  
  
'Sure thing', she whispered back, seemingly undetected by Carol. Rindy beamed at her.  
  
Saying goodbye never got easier, but it was miraculous in some ways that they even got to happen at all, especially now Therese was a permanent fixture in Carol's life. After seeing the misery he was putting his daughter through, however, Harge had agreed, with Abby's encouragement, that Carol could take Rindy out for the day a few times a month. And so it was here Carol and Therese stood, every other Saturday, watching Rindy scramble up the steps, smiling back at the two of them, while Carol masked her breaking heart behind a happy wave goodbye.  
  
Therese took her hand and squeezed it as Rindy disappeared through the door. Carol looked at her, and in her eyes Therese could discern that flicker of hope that seemed to burn brighter with every time they stood here together, knowing that Rindy wasn't as present in their lives as they'd like her to be, but that they felt closer to her anyway, and she equally enjoyed her time with them.   
  
Carol smiled. Things with her daughter were going to be just fine.  
  


* * *

  
The evening sun slanted onto the small terrace, drenching the terracotta tiles in an pool of luminescent orange, bringing out the golden brown on Therese's bare skin. Her arms were draped along the railing as she gazed absentmindedly out at the greys and beiges of the brownstone apartments and the fiery yellows of glassy skyscrapers that reflected the sunset back at her like a mirror.  
  
That view of New York from above she had always wanted, she now had. Or at least, Carol had.  
  
The day Therese had chased Carol to Broadway, Carol did exactly as she asked. She stayed. She didn't show up for her flight, and simply went home with Therese instead, as if that was her intended destination all along. Two weeks later, she had bought a chic penthouse apartment on the Upper West Side, and she was on a plane back to LA to begin the laborious task of moving her belongings to the east coast.   
  
Carol's new home was Therese's too, that had been made clear from the moment Carol signed the papers. But it had been two whole months already, and the older woman was still waiting for Therese to join her. While Therese had no doubts about moving in, she still held on to her own apartment for the time being. It was just too soon for her to officially move in with Carol. For now, she used her space as a private retreat, a place to go and be by herself when things got overwhelming, or when the cold hand of imposter syndrome grabbed her by the wrist and tried to pull her back to her old Greenwich Village life. Going back there was an act of easing herself into this new relationship, since she knew that she and Carol couldn't just pick up where they left off, not really. The both of them still needed time, and Therese had decided that she would bring the last of her stuff to Carol's place when an appropriate length of time had passed. Still, she was already starting to feel at home in the Upper West Side, because Carol was there, and she had already begun to equate the two things.  
  
Therese felt a slender arm snake around her waist from behind, and a soft kiss at the nape of her neck. She smiled.  
  
In Carol's other hand were two cold bottles of Corona, a wedge of lime sitting snugly in the top of each one.   
  
'Thanks', Therese accepted gratefully, pushing the lime down into the fizzing golden liquid.  
  
'Cheers', Carol smiled, clinking the neck of the bottle against Therese's. 'Today was so great, wasn't it?'  
  
Therese nodded. It _had_ been wonderful. They'd driven out to Asbury Park beach in New Jersey, a welcome break from the city and the perfect way to enjoy the August weather. Carol had spent the afternoon relaxing while an excited Rindy dragged an exhausted Therese from the sea, to the ice cream truck, back to the sea, to Carol, where the three of them attempted to build castles in the dry and crumbling sand.  
  
'I think Rindy will sleep well tonight', Therese commented.  
  
Carol laughed. 'She reminds me so much of myself. So hyperactive. You know I was in four sports clubs when I was her age?'  
  
'What did you do?'  
  
'Track and field, softball, soccer and swimming'.  
  
Therese smirked. 'You were quite the athlete, I had no idea'.  
  
Carol pulled a face. 'I wasn't, not really. I did all this stuff, but I wasn't exactly any good at any of it. I think my parents just wanted me to waste some of my energy'.  
  
'Did it work?'  
  
'Yeah, I guess it did. I'd chilled right out by the time I was in my early teens. That's when I became interested in the arts'.  
  
'Maybe that's Rindy's trajectory too'.  
  
'It probably is. Actually, she's already interested. She's been spending rather a lot of time with Genevieve recently'.  
  
Therese's smile faltered, the mention of their friend stirring up an uneasiness in her that had spiked and lulled throughout the day.   
  
'Do you think it'll be weird with her tonight?' she asked uncertainly.   
  
Carol frowned. 'With Gen? No. Why?'  
  
'Do you realise this is the first time all three of us are gonna be together in public since shit hit the fan?'  
  
'Of course I do', Carol sighed. She put a comforting hand on the small of Therese's back. 'Angel, I already told you, we don't have to go if you don't want to'.  
  
'No, no, I _do_ want to', Therese clarified. 'It's just . . . they're gonna make it into a really big deal. All these twisted love triangle rumours are gonna start up again'.  
  
'I know. But we need to get it over with, or we'll never be able to go back to normal. They'll get bored soon enough, once they've seen us out together a few times'.  
  
'Yeah, you're right', Therese waved a hand dismissively, like she was brushing away her own doubts. She was actually pleasantly surprised by Carol's willingness to go out tonight. A gallery opening wasn't the most discreet place for their first public outing with Genevieve since it had become known that Therese and Carol were a couple. But tonight wasn't about that. It was about supporting their friend, and Therese wasn't about to let the press get in the way of that, despite how anxious the prospect made her.  
  
Carol had slipped back inside to the kitchen. Therese watched her through the half-open French doors as she took the tray of roasted vegetables out of the oven.  
  
'I don't know what to wear', she wondered aloud.  
  
'You mean you haven't picked out an outfit weeks in advance?' Carol gasped in mock horror. 'You've changed'.  
  
Therese smiled to herself as she turned back to the view. 'I'd hope so', she murmured under her breath.  
  


* * *

  
The new and improved Cantrell Gallery was in Chelsea, a few streets away from the river, among a cluster of other illustrious independent galleries frequented by New York's wealthiest collectors. Therese and Carol knew this was a venture Genevieve was truly excited about. For someone who appeared so bored by everyday life, she had been practically squealing with excitement when she'd told them she was moving to a bigger space.  
  
After hearing about her in the press, people had started flocking to Genevieve's Greenwich Village gallery, seeking out this intriguing and enigmatic Londoner, the one who had tempted Carol Aird into infidelity. This was an angle Gen was happy to use to her advantage, because it was a way in which she could play the press at their own game and come out on top. People came to Cantrell Gallery from all over the city, and with such a charming and seductive saleswoman as Gen, it was rare for a collector to leave without making a purchase.

Therese and Carol arrived outside a glassy, minimalist exterior, no bigger than a shop-front, with the words CANTRELL GALLERY hanging above in elegant black lettering, lit from behind with soft golden light. But, as they had their names checked off the guest list and passed through the door, the seemingly unassuming exterior opened out into a huge space with white walls and light oak floors, sprawling over two levels. False walls were thrown up to divide the room and create smaller, separate galleries where needed. A metal spiral staircase joined the ground floor to a mezzanine upper floor, where guests gathered by the railing, looking down on the happenings below.  
  
'Wow', Carol exhaled with a whistle.  
  
'This is incredible', Therese said, awestruck.  
  
Together they drifted towards the first wall of artwork, accepting the offer of a glass of champagne from a server in a black tuxedo. They had only reached the third painting when Abby came stalking over, dressed in a black French-style vintage dress, her mousy brown hair styled in elegant waves and half pinned back with a silver bejewelled clip.  
  
'Thank God you're here', she greeted them, relieved, with a kiss on the cheek.  
  
'What's up?' Carol asked.  
  
'I hate Genevieve's art friends, you know that'.  
  
Carol laughed. 'They're not so bad'.  
  
'Well, _you_ think that because you're famous', Abby retorted. 'They don't fawn over us mere mortals so much, they just bore us instead'.  
  
'Hey, Carol!' a male voice called from across the space. The three of them turned to locate the source, finding a young man in a navy blue suit and long black dreadlocks tied in a ponytail. The small group he was with all turned to wave at Carol.  
  
'It's starting already', Abby murmured, taking a sip of champagne.  
  
'I'd better go say hi', Carol sighed. She turned to Therese. 'You want to come with me, angel?'  
  
Therese shook her head. 'No, it's cool. Go do your thing'.  
  
'I won't be long', she promised, squeezing Therese's hand before she went.  
  
Left alone with Abby, Therese realised they were exactly that - alone. There was someone missing, someone she expected to see Abby with tonight.  
  
'Where's Rita Hayworth?' she teased.  
  
'I thought I told you to stop calling her that!'  
  
Therese hid her smile with a sip of champagne.   
  
Abby had finally plucked up enough courage to ask the mysterious redhead who frequented Genevieve's parties on a date. Abby had neglected to tell her she'd had her eyes on her for almost a year but had been too nervous to say anything. Therese and Carol knew very little about her, other than that her name was Hannah, and she and Abby been seeing each other for about a month.   
  
'But seriously, where is she?' Therese asked.   
  
'She's not here', Abby said dismissively.   
  
Therese frowned. 'But this is Gen's big night', she pointed out, slightly disappointed by Hannah's apparent disregard for such an important event.  
  
'Don't worry, she's not being a bad friend', Abby clarified. 'She's in Berlin, visiting family'.  
  
'She's German?'  
  
'Yep'.  
  
'And an art dealer, or a painter, or what?'  
  
'She has a little gallery in Soho'.  
  
Therese raised an eyebrow. 'So she's one of Gen's pretentious art friends you say you hate', she teased.  
  
Abby shook her head. 'She's different'.  
  
'I can tell', Therese said smugly, noticing the unmistakable twinkle in Abby's eye.  
  


* * *

Alone in a quiet corner of the gallery, Therese admired the large canvas before her. It was Genevieve's work, the only painting of her own she'd decided to hang for opening night. In the painting, a woman was sitting on a stool in front of an easel, palette in one hand and paintbrush in another. Behind her, glass patio doors were flung half-open, morning sunlight filtering in, illuminating the rose bushes in the garden beyond. The woman, in her knee-length ivory lace dress, barefoot, stared out at Therese, capturing her in the gaze of her icy blue eyes, a sharp contrast against the tumbling waves of black hair that fell around her shoulders and down past her chest.  
  
'You like it?'  
  
Genevieve had appeared at her side as if out of nowhere, long sweeping hair tied half-up, lips, painted in mulberry to match her pantsuit, turned up at the corners.  
  
'It's beautiful', Therese remarked. 'A self-portrait?'  
  
Gen shook her head. 'No. She's my mother'.  
  
'Wow. You look just like her'.  
  
'Yeah, I do. I never got to know her, but she gave me her artistic gifts. This is my way of saying thank you'.  
  
Therese looked at her, endeared by this sudden display of sentiment. 'It's lovely', she assured her. 'And the perfect painting to showcase tonight'.  
  
'It looks good here, doesn't it?'  
  
'Everything looks good here. This place is really something'.  
  
'I'm looking for a new celebrity to sleep with', Gen said sardonically. 'Then I'll move somewhere even bigger. Or maybe I'll open a second gallery in London'.  
  
Therese shook her head in disbelief. 'Careful, Gen'.  
  
Gen rolled her eyes. 'I'm kidding. I wouldn't go through all that again, not for the whole bloody Tate Modern'.  
  
Her voice lost all it's humour as she spoke. Her face had become more serious too, her eyes not quite meeting Therese's. Therese offered her a sympathetic smile, a gesture of solidarity, of understanding. The truth was, the relentless stalking by the paparazzi and the attempts of reporters to uncover Gen's past and private life, particularly their contacting of estranged friends and family members in London, had taken more of a toll on Gen than she would ever let on. And Therese was the only one who truly recognised that, because she'd been in that same position. They were each other's greatest ally, in that way. They always would be.  
  
Genevieve smiled back, the silent dialogue realised between them. 'I know you were sceptical about coming tonight, but I'm glad you did', she confessed.  
  
'I'm glad I did too. You deserve this, Gen'.  
  
'Fucking right, I do!' she exclaimed. 'After all the media bullshit I put up with? I'm just glad I was able to get something out of it'. She took a sip of champagne and exhaled, as if to calm herself down. 'But now I have my dream gallery. And you have your dream woman. Now we all get to move on'.  
  
'Yeah', Therese agreed. 'We do'.  
  
Genevieve smiled earnestly at her for a moment, before her eyes seemed to drift past Therese, as if noticing something behind her. 'Speaking of moving on', she said, to herself more than anyone else. Then she stuck out her arm in a wave. 'Paul!' she called.  
  
Therese spun around. This man, Paul apparently, was coming over to them, running a hand through his short, dark blonde hair, straightening out his navy waistcoat with the other.  
  
Gen murmured something to Therese under her breath, but it was too quiet for her to hear.  
  
'What?' Therese whispered back. But Paul was already within earshot.  
  
'Paul, I don't believe you've met Therese Belivet', Genevieve said quickly, before the man had even a chance to open his mouth.  
  
He turned to Therese. 'Hi, Therese, it's good to meet you', he smiled, shaking her hand.  
  
'I'll leave you two to get acquainted', Gen said slyly, like she was plotting something. 'I need to find Dannie, he should be here by now'.  
  
Therese narrowed her eyes at her as she left, but Gen just tilted her head subtly towards Paul.   
  
'So, what do you do, Therese', Paul asked. 'Are you an artist too?'  
  
'I'm a photographer', Therese answered.  
  
'Oh, really? Might I have seen some of your work?'  
  
Therese smirked. 'I doubt it. My career hasn't exactly taken off yet'.  
  
'You mean you're not working right now?'  
  
'As a bartender, yes. As a photographer, unfortunately not'.  
  
Paul laughed, shaking his head. 'I only say that because I'm actually looking to hire someone new', he revealed. 'I own a small studio here in Chelsea, but my team and I work at other locations in the city too, sometimes further'.  
  
 _He's a photographer?_ Therese realised excitedly. _So that's what Gen was trying to tell me_. She'd intended for them to meet, which must have meant Gen thought Therese had a shot with him.  
  
'What kind of work do you do?' Therese asked, intrigued.  
  
'We shoot models and actors mostly, whether that's for headshots or for magazine features and advertisement pieces'. he explained. 'Does that sound like something you'd be interested in?'  
  
'Wow, yeah, I'd definitely be interested', she breathed.  
  
'Well, we're interviewing a handful of candidates, but I'd love to look over your portfolio'. He chuckled. 'You know, a friend of Genevieve Cantrell is a friend of mine, and all that'.  
  
'Yeah, absolutely, I'd be happy to show you. It sounds like a really exciting opportunity'.  
  
'Okay, great. Well, I'll give you my card. Maybe we can meet this coming week?'  
  
'Yeah, that would be perfect'.  
  
They briefly exchanged some more words of small talk, Therese mostly trying to be cool and not make an eager idiot out of herself in front of a potential future employer. Soon, though, his wife was calling from across the space, and he excused himself, Therese happily watching him go because it meant that she could breathe again. She drained the rest of her champagne just for something to do. She was already giddy from the alcohol, and this new information had her almost jumping for joy.  
  
'Hi', came Carol's low voice from behind her.  
  
She turned around. 'Hi! Are you having fun?'  
  
Carol nodded, smiling. 'What about you? Did I just see you speaking to Paul Duval?'  
  
'You know him?'  
  
'I know _of_ him'.  
  
'He's hiring for his company, and he wants to talk to me'.  
  
Carol's eyes widened. 'Well, this calls for celebration!' she declared. 'I'm gonna take you out somewhere really special tomorrow'.  
  
Therese laughed. 'I haven't got the job yet'.  
  
'Oh, come on. Any other candidates don't stand a chance, you're too brilliant'.  
  
Therese smiled bashfully, modesty getting the better of her. 'He asked to see my portfolio', she said. 'I'll just give him all my photographs of you. My masterpieces'.  
  
It was Carol's turn to grow shy, her cheeks tinged with pink as she blushed. 'Well, I'm honoured to be your subject'.  
  
'And I'm honoured to have you as my muse'. Therese draped her arms around the back of Carol's neck, gazing up at her adoringly. 'Not just in art, but in life. In everything. I'm so glad you're mine'.  
  
'And I'll always be yours', Carol promised. Then she leaned in and kissed her, slowly, deeply, proudly, without a care who was watching. 'My angel', she whispered. 'Flung out of space'.  
  
Therese smiled against Carol's lips. She never did know what that meant. She didn't want to ask, though. It was one of those gloriously abstract sentiments that wasn't meant to be understood, at least in the realm of language. _Flung out of space_. Maybe she had been. One of billions of stars in the sky, fallen to Earth and reborn as one of billions of people, and yet somehow, her world had collided with Carol's, and nothing would ever be the same again.  
  



	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, we made it. I can't believe this is the last time I'm posting on this story. 
> 
> After Electric Blue, I thought I wouldn't write another one, yet here we are. And now . . . well, it's safe to say I still have the writing bug, and this wonderful novel/film, as well as the other amazing authors on this site, never fail to inspire me. So stay tuned. It might take me a while, but I am working on something else.
> 
> This is an epilogue set 10 years in the future. I'm so grateful for all the kudos and comments on this story. Thank you for sharing this journey with me. Love to all of you, and stay safe!

Therese swiped downward across her phone screen with her thumb, refreshing her email app for probably the fiftieth time today. She knew Dasha Petrovna at the office would probably call, if she was going to contact her at all, but she couldn't help thinking that maybe an offer would fall into her email inbox, and the notion of missing it terrified her.  
  
'Any news yet?' Hannah's voice came from behind her.  
  
Therese turned around and shook her head, shrugging her shoulders in defeat. 'I really don't need this today', she complained.  
  
'Don't need what today?' Abby asked, breezing in through the back door.  
  
'I'm apparently gonna find out if they're offering me the Vogue cover', Therese replied sullenly.  
  
'That's today?'  
  
'Yep', she sighed. 'I'm supposed to be getting excited for Rindy's party and instead I'm stressing out over this'.  
  
Abby shot her a sympathetic smile. 'Try not to think about it too much'. Then she turned to Hannah. 'Babe, will you throw me that box?'  
  
Hannah picked up the large cardboard box that lay at her feet and tossed it to Abby, Therese leaning out of reach just enough to avoid its flight path. Abby tore through the tape that sealed the top and opened the flaps, setting free a bunch of pale pink balloons with the words _good luck_ printed on them in silver cursive lettering.  
  
'These are cute!' Abby mused, taking out the little plastic weight from the bottom of the box and taking it to the table along the far wall, the balloons streaming behind her as she went.  
  
Therese turned back to her phone, cursing under her breath. Why did Marshall Thomas have to tell her Vogue was considering her? Why did he have to tell everyone? Now all her old colleagues and friends in New York's photography scene were calling and texting and wishing her luck. She knew they meant well, but it put pressure on her. She wished Marshall hadn't said anything at all. Then, if Dasha was to call her, it would have been a pleasant surprise.   
  
Getting to shoot the fall cover of Vogue would be a milestone in Therese's career, perhaps the biggest yet. But she'd achieved so much already, especially since leaving Paul Duval's studio after six challenging but rewarding years and going freelance. During her decade in the profession, she'd shot commercials for cosmetics companies, worked on the runways at New York Fashion Week, covered a handful of film premieres and exclusive parties. Vogue wouldn't be her first cover either. In fact, the work she was most well-known for was her recent cover of Vanity Fair, featuring her partner of 10 years, Carol Aird.  
  
Therese had known that her life would change drastically, being with Carol, but still, nothing could have prepared her for it. The first year of their relationship alone saw Therese give up her job at McElroy's, move permanently into Carol's penthouse on the Upper West Side, and begin her career in photography. The quiet life of a broke bartender, a life she struggled through but loved, was no longer hers, and instead she slowly grew accustomed to the privileges that wealth afforded. She ate in nice restaurants, she shopped in expensive boutiques, travelled to countries she never imagined she'd visit. Sometimes it could be overwhelming, and there were days when she felt her attempts to fit in weren't good enough, and that everyone could see through her performance. Carol was always patient, and was careful not too push her into anything, but there was only so much the older woman could do. Carol had been born into wealth, had married into it, and then amassed a great fortune of her own. She couldn't understand or appreciate the huge jump across the lines of class divide that Therese had had to make, especially considering that their age gap put even more distance between their social circles. But, ultimately, whenever it felt like she had strayed too far from her roots, Therese's friends were there to help keep her feet firmly on the ground. Just an evening eating take-out, drinking beer and watching crappy action movies with them was enough to make her feel normal again.  
  
And 'normal' had become a changing concept in itself. Therese had become a celebrity in her own right. After five years with Carol, it felt normal to Therese to be photographed in the grocery store, on the subway, in Central Park, where she still liked to take a book on warm afternoons, as she always had. Alone, she still went about her life as it was before she met Carol, only now, she could expect to be approached by strangers or hear the click of a camera as she walked down the street. If Carol was beside her, these interferences were multiplied further. But five years into their relationship was around the time that Carol had decided that she was ready to fulfil a dream she never even knew she had: teaching. After meeting with Juilliard, the school she had attended and loved so much, she became much more selective with the projects she worked on, until she was only making one film a year and dedicating the rest of her work time to inspiring the next generation of great actors. Since then, normal had evolved yet again, into something that resembled more closely the life of any other affluent New York couple. The two of them weren't entirely out of the public eye, but they had become much less important to the media now that Carol had semi-retired.  
  
That's why Therese had been so surprised when Carol had announced at the beginning of the week that she had a meeting with her agent and a film director scheduled a few hours before Rindy's party. Carol had already played the lead role in a historical drama earlier in the year, and she'd been so adamant that she wouldn't make another film until next summer at least. This new project must have intrigued her enough for her to even go to the meeting at all. Therese ran a hand through her wavy brown hair in frustration. It was a big day for both of them, and that was without considering the party they were throwing.  
  
The double doors at the end of the bar swung open suddenly, and Genevieve stalked in, dark sunglasses covering her eyes despite being indoors, sipping at an almost-empty black cold-brew coffee in a Starbucks plastic cup.  
  
'You're late', Abby reprimanded her.  
  
'Sorry', Gen said, like she didn't mean it at all.   
  
Hannah took a closer look at the black sharpie scrawled on the transparent cup. 'Why does it say Violet on your cup?'  
  
Gen wordlessly spun the cup around in her hand, revealing a phone number on the other side.  
  
'Nice', Abby laughed, high-fiving her.  
  
'What's up with you?' Gen asked Therese, noticing her glum face. 'Vogue day, huh?'  
  
'Is it _that_ obvious?' Therese sighed.  
  
Gen smirked. 'Cheer up. Today is supposed to be fun!'  
  


* * *

  
The evening would be Rindy's second party, the first having been thrown last weekend by Harge's family and friends. Relations were still too tense between Carol and Harge, and so most events like this took place separately. As much as Carol had insisted they weren't competing, Carol's side of the family were always looking for ways in which they could ensure their parties were better.  
  
Therese and Carol had hired out their favourite cocktail bar in Hell's Kitchen for the party, a small but vibrantly decorated joint that had become their go-to since Dannie and Phil closed McElroy's four years ago. Saying goodbye to the little place had been tough for all of them, but with most of Therese's friends moved on to other careers, with partners and growing families of their own, it just wasn't the same as it had once been. Dannie had a wife and a four year old daughter, José and Mirai both had long term boyfriends, with Mirai getting married next year. Phil had recently split up with his wife, but shared custody of his two young sons. Lucas was still single after an unprecedented and unlucky relationship spree with a string of awful women.The group was now scattered across the city, but Therese supposed the luckiest thing was that none of them had left New York, and they still managed to get together at least once a week, their regular Thursday night drinks.  
  
As well as Therese's family, the bar was filled with Rindy's best friends from high school, colleagues Rindy knew from both Genevieve's and Hannah's galleries, and some of Carol's friends from Juilliard. The buzz of chatter and laughter filled the air. Music played through speakers on the walls, which, in a moment, would be quieted as Abby went to ask a bartender to turn it off. It was time for Carol to make her toast.  
  
Therese's eyes searched the room until they found Carol, in her crisp white shirt and grey pinstripe pants, golden hair bouncing around her shoulders as her head moved from side to side, searching too. Therese wanted to run to her. Even after all this time, Carol still took her breath away, and even after coming straight from work, barely a moment to get ready for the party, she still possessed such an effortless beauty, an inherent elegance that seemed to surround her like a shimmering mist. Carol was standing by the end of the bar, a spot where she could be seen by everyone, when she needed to be. Her eyes finally landed on Therese, and, with a smile, she gave her a nod.  
  
'Come on', Therese said to Phil and Lucas, who she'd been talking to near the back door. The three of them drifted towards the bar as the music died down around them, and Carol called for attention, a loose semi-circle forming around her.  
  
'Good evening, everyone', Carol's low voice rang out loud and clear across the bar as the crowd's conversations faded into nothing. 'I'm so glad all of you could be here to celebrate my beautiful daughter's new adventure in Chicago'. A burst of cheering erupted from the spot where Rindy and her friends stood, the group of teenagers clapping and whooping excitedly.   
  
Carol continued. 'When Rindy decided she wanted to apply for colleges out of state, I was, like any parent would be, pretty devastated. The thought of not being a 20 minute car ride away from her has been a tough thing to process, but she's always been smart, and independent, and so I know that I don't have to worry about her moving to a new city'. Carol's eyes sought out her daughter in the crowd, addressing her directly. 'Rindy, I'm sure Chicago will feel like home to you in no time at all. I'm so incredibly proud of everything you've achieved so far, and I truly believe you'll go on to achieve great things. And we'll all be here, supporting you every step of the way. So good luck, Rindy. We'll miss you, and we can't wait to see where you'll go from here'. Beaming with pride, she raised her glass of champagne. 'To Rindy!'  
  
'To Rindy!' the crowd repeated after her, each raising their glasses.   
  
Therese craned her neck around the sea of heads until she saw her step-daughter, blushing, ever modest, emerging from the group of teenagers and going up to the bar to join Carol, dark blonde hair trailing behind her, her bright red dress a pop of colour next to her mother's minimalist outfit.  
  
There was an undeniable resemblance between Rindy and Carol. They stood at the same height, gave each other the same brilliant smile as they embraced, and had those same blue-grey eyes, so full of warmth despite the coolness of their colour. Carol kissed Rindy on the cheek before leaving her, centre of attention, and hurrying back to the crowd, slipping in beside Therese and sliding an arm around her waist, drawing her closer. Therese smiled up at her.  
  
'Hi', Rindy said, a little awkwardly, only now realising the amount of people in the room. 'I didn't wanna bore everyone with a really long speech, but there's just so much I want to say, and so many family members I want to thank for their support in getting me to this point, so . . . yeah, sorry, this is a really long speech'. A smattering of applause started up from Rindy's group of friends, and she nodded at them gratefully.   
  
'First of all', she began, voice growing more confident. 'I wanna talk about my mom, Carol, the reason we're all here celebrating today. Not just because she organised this party, but because she's always been my biggest cheerleader, in my academic pursuits, and in every aspect of my life, even in times when things weren't easy between us'.   
  
Rindy looked down at the floor, uncertain suddenly, as if she was deciding whether she should go on. Therese felt Carol tense up beside her.  
  
'When I was small', Rindy continued after a moment, 'she was working a lot, and we mostly lived in hotel suites across the country. She was deeply unhappy, though I couldn't see it back then. After that, she and my dad got divorced and she disappeared out of my life completely, for a while. It hurt, being apart from her, because I thought she didn't want to see me, and I was confused as to what I'd done wrong. But I soon learned the truth'. She took a deep breath, steadying herself. 'My mom was doing what she thought was the right thing for me. No one can expect a mother to be the best she can be if she's not her best self. She was taking the time to heal, so she could be the best mother to me when she came back. It was still hard, after that, because I only saw her every other week, but my mom was happier than I've ever seen her, and so those times we did spend together were really special. And as I grew up, I grew closer to her, because as I got older, I felt like I understood her'. She looked at Carol, smiling tearfully. 'I admire you so much, Mom, and you've raised me to be someone I'm proud of. I hope I continue to make you proud too'.  
  
If Therese thought she was going to melt at this interaction, she had nothing on Carol, who looked like she might burst into tears at any moment. Therese leaned her head on Carol's shoulder.   
  
But Rindy was just getting started. 'Of course, the major factor in my mom's happiness was Therese Belivet. Meeting her changed everything for my mom, and, if you know them, then you've witnessed one of the most extraordinary romances this great city of New York has ever seen. And they're still going strong, congrats guys'. Someone in the crowd gave a whoop, probably Abby, Therese thought, and soon everyone had joined in, a quick round of applause for the couple. The two of them laughed, with Carol planting a proud kiss on Therese's temple.  
  
Rindy went on as the noise died down. 'I like to joke that running away from The Plaza hotel one day when I was eight and scaring my mom half to death was one of the best things I've ever done, but it's true. I've also been known to point out that Therese and I met first, and she was _my_ friend before she even met my mom. That just shows how enamoured I was with her, right from the beginning. I doubt Therese expected that she'd become a stepmom to a nine year old at age 27. Maybe the prospect would have scared some women off, but Therese never even questioned it, and more than that, she embraced it. I'm so grateful for you, Tee, for being such a guiding light in my life. I'm also grateful that you're young and cool enough to let me get away with things my mom or dad would yell at me for'. Everyone laughed, as Rindy gave Therese a grateful nod, an earnest gesture to finish off the joke. Therese blew a kiss at her, thinking she had never loved the girl more in her life.  
  
'I also wanna thank Abby Gerhard, my real-life fairy godmother', Rindy continued. 'My Aunt Abby has had as much of a hand in raising me as any one of my parents, which means, unfortunately for them, I've picked up a lot of interesting influences from her over the years. Examples include lying to get out of a parking ticket, playing poker, and getting into parties without being on the guest list'.  
  
'She's a real whizz at poker, we should get her signed up to high stakes games!' Abby interjected, earning a laugh from the crowd.  
  
'I don't know about that', Rindy smirked. 'But, as you can tell from these things, hanging out with Aunt Abby is never boring. She's the life and soul of any party, thanks to her wicked sense of humour and her crazy dance moves, especially when she's drunk. But she's also the most loyal friend I've ever encountered. She's the person you want on your side in a tough situation, and I'm so lucky to have her on mine.  
  
'And Hannah Blenkinsop, yes, I will admit, I was jealous when you married my Aunt Abby. She'd spoiled me my whole life and I wasn't ready to give up being her centre of attention. I'm sorry for being a little brat to you, and I'm so glad you were patient with me'. Therese looked over to where Hannah and Abby stood, laughing, no doubt remembering the effort it had taken for poor Hannah to win a 10 year old Rindy's affection. Since Therese and Rindy were so close, it was Hannah who had briefly and unwillingly taken on the role of the wicked stepmother. Luckily, it didn't take Rindy long to see that Hannah would be a satisfactory wife for her beloved Aunt Abby - and it helped that Rindy would of course be a bridesmaid at their wedding.  
  
'Hannah gave me the greatest part-time job ever when I was 16', Rindy explained, 'doing admin things in her gallery, which was the coolest thing ever, because I already knew in the future I wanted a career in the art world.   
  
'That was my first official job, but my first gallery experience was with Genevieve Cantrell. As a kid, I went on so many art museum trips with Gen that I could draw a detailed map of the MoMA from memory by the time I was 11. In my early teens, she let me sit in her gallery and watch her work. She taught me everything about the day-to-day running of her business, and soon I was helping her out a couple of weekends a month, and some afternoons after school, lying to my dad that I was with friends or my Aunt Abby. She even paid me for it, so thanks Gen for making me believe I was getting rich at 14 years old'.  
  
'I didn't want to get in trouble over unpaid child labour', Gen deadpanned.  
  
'Well, whatever', Rindy laughed, waving a hand dismissively. 'I would have done it for free, because I loved being there so much. I stayed there with Gen until I moved on to Hannah's place, when Gen sold her gallery to go be the exhibitions director of the Met'. Abby initiated another round of cheering and applause from the crowd. 'Yeah, it's amazing, I know', Rindy agreed. 'But you _are_ amazing, Gen. It's because of you that I first found my passion for art, and the business of it, and whatever happens next, a lot if will be thanks to you. You've been my mentor, and you'll always be my inspiration'.  
  
Therese looked over at Genevieve, who was smiling almost bashfully, her real smile, as opposed to one of her trademark smirks. For all her sardonicism and her tendency to brush off genuine moments, Gen was more real with Rindy that she was with anyone else.  
  
'Finally, I want to thank all my cool aunts and uncles', Rindy went on, seeking out the McElroy's gang, dotted around the room. 'My mom and dad don't have any siblings, but Therese brought five with her when she and my mom got together, and, honestly, I didn't know what I was missing when I was little, because hanging out with you guys is the most fun. I'm already looking forward to coming home for the annual big family Thanksgiving, but that feels like so far away, and it kinda sucks that that might be the next time I see you guys. The next time I see all of you here, in fact'. She addressed the whole room now. 'I'm gonna miss you all a lot, but I'm also really excited for this new chapter of my life to begin. So, thank you for being here everyone'.  
  


* * *

Around an hour later, Therese received a text. It wasn't from Dasha, or anyone at Vogue. It was from Marshall.   
  
_Hi, Tee. They went with Angelica Johnson for the cover. I just heard. Sorry._  
  
Therese's heart sank. She leaned against the wall, closed her eyes for a moment, and took a deep breath.  
  
Okay, so Angelica Johnson was brilliant. She was a visionary. And she was very sweet. Therese had known her for years, and if anyone else deserved this, it was her. But Therese really _did_ want that job. And she really thought she might just get it.  
  
'Hey, Tee'. A voice behind her startled her.  
  
She turned around to find Rindy looking at her expectantly. 'Hey', she said, voice falling flat.  
  
'Is something wrong?' Rindy raised an eyebrow.  
  
'I didn't get the Vogue cover', she said anticlimactically.  
  
Rindy's face fell. 'Oh'.  
  
'Yeah. I literally just found out'.  
  
'I'm sorry. Maybe it just wasn't your time. The day will come'.  
  
Therese shrugged. 'You're probably right'.  
  
Rindy frowned, sensing that it would take more than a simple shrug for Therese to forget about this rejection. 'Are you really upset about it?' she asked tentatively.  
  
Therese smiled then, shaking her head, and put an arm around Rindy's shoulders, hugging her to her side. 'How can I be upset when I feel like I'm gonna absolutely burst with pride at you and your gorgeous speech?'   
  
Rindy smiled bashfully. 'Well, I spoke from the heart. I know I don't tell you enough how much you mean to me. Anyway, Mirai filmed the whole thing, maybe you can watch it every time you need a little ego boost'.  
  
Therese laughed. 'Shut up', she said, pushing her playfully.  
  
'I love you, Mom', Rindy grinned at her.  
  
Therese stroked a hand through her long, blonde hair. 'I love you too, kid'.  
  
They stayed there together a few minutes until a couple of Rindy's friends came to sweep her up, saying a quick hello to Therese before taking her back to her group of classmates. Therese felt her heart swell, watching Rindy go, observing the number of friends that had shown up to support her, and how obvious it was that they loved her so dearly. Rindy hadn't had the easiest life, that was certain, and yet she had grown into this kind-hearted, caring girl, who somehow managed to juggle two entirely separate families without privileging one over the other. Well, okay, maybe she privileged Carol and Therese's side a little more. She had to, since she lived with Harge full-time and therefore had to make her own efforts to see her mothers, knowing Harge wouldn't even mention his ex-wife if he could help it. Since her early teens, Harge had realised Rindy was getting old enough to make her own choices, which meant he was eventually forced to accept that Rindy was going to be spending a lot more time with Carol's family and friends. _We can't help that we're more fun_ , Therese thought, smiling to herself.  
  
She decided she should probably let Carol know about her rejection, since the older woman had been as stressed over it as she had. She set out to look for her, getting stopped by various friends and colleagues as she made her way through the crowd. She found Carol eventually, stood over by the double doors, talking to Lucas and Rosa, Dannie's wife. She excused herself when she saw Therese, gesturing for her to go over.  
  
'Hi', Carol smiled. 'You okay?'  
  
'They gave the Vogue cover to Angelica Johnson', Therese told her.  
  
Like her daughter's only five minutes earlier, Carol's face fell. 'Oh, angel, I'm sorry'. She reached out a hand and gently squeezed the top of Therese's arm.  
  
'It's fine', Therese said, the sentiment feeling more real to her this time. 'I don't need that job, I just wanted it. Angelica's great, she'll do great things'.  
  
'You would have been great too'.  
  
'Another time', Therese shrugged. 'I'm still on Vogue's radar. Besides, I still have a lot more to do. I'm only 37, I feel like my career's just beginning, you know?'  
  
'Don't rub it in', Carol said, without missing a beat.  
  
Therese laughed. _Speaking of careers_.  
  
'How was your meeting?' she asked.  
  
'It was interesting, actually', Carol mused. 'We looked at a script for a kind-of Scandinavian crime drama. I say kind-of, 'cause it focuses on an American expat family mostly. It's just a supporting character, but, honestly, it's the best role in the whole film'. She seemed to ponder this for a moment, voice becoming distant and dreamy. 'It's really caught my attention'.   
  
'You know, that whole 'one film a year' rule isn't real', Therese remarked, bringing her back to the moment. 'You made it up! If you wanna do two this year, do two!'  
  
Carol pursed her lips. 'I don't know', she said uncertainly.  
  
'Would school let you take the time off?'   
  
'Yeah. It looks good on them if I keep doing high profile work, so I'm sure they'd be happy to let me go'.  
  
'And now Rindy's moving away, you don't have to worry about staying home so much'.  
  
Carol raised an eyebrow. 'What makes you think I want to go away more if Rindy's not gonna be here? I can't bear to leave _you_ more than once a year, you know that'.  
  
Therese smiled bashfully. Time could be a killer of some relationships, but even after being with Carol for so long, sometimes believing she had already experienced all there was to experience, she still felt butterflies when Carol said things like that.  
  
'I'd come with you', Therese said suddenly, the idea forming in her head as she spoke the words aloud.  
  
'You would?'  
  
'Yeah, if you want me to. Where's the shoot?'  
  
'Copenhagen'.  
  
Therese blinked. 'Okay, wow. I'll definitely go with you then'.   
  
_Copenhagen_? She'd never been there, but had wanted to for a while. She and Carol had been fortunate enough to travel a lot over the past 10 years, sometimes for Carol's work, sometimes for Therese's, but more recently, just because they wanted to. Those were the best kind of trips, the ones where they could choose wherever they wanted to go and stay for as long as they liked, an empty horizon free of any commitments stretched out before them. It was bliss.  
  
The thought inspired Therese.   
  
'Maybe we can stay over there a little while after you finish', she wondered aloud. 'Go on a little tour of the Scandinavian countries'.  
  
A slow smile started on Carol's lips, as if she was pondering something good. In Carol's face, Therese saw the future, as she often did, as she had learned to do. She saw what Carol was thinking. She saw the two of them exploring new cities, walking on the long, winding riverbanks, eating at cosy restaurants in hidden alleyways, drinking coffee on café terraces with the morning sun on their faces, sleeping in each other's arms and feeling at home, because together was where they belonged, and so any hotel room, any city, any country in the world could be home.   
  
'That would be wonderful', Carol agreed. 'Guess I'll accept the job then'.  
  
Therese smiled. 'Guess you should'.  
  
'Maybe it's not so bad you didn't get the Vogue cover after all'.  
  
Therese waved a hand dismissively. 'You win some, you lose some'.  
  
Sure, she'd lost this job. She'd lost many opportunities before, and she would lose many more in the future. But how could she ever feel as though she had failed? She glanced around the room, at her incredible family, her wonderful step-daughter, and the love of her life standing before her, the most beautiful woman in any room, looking back at her with such adoration in her eyes, a passion that hadn't dulled even after a decade together, a fire that burned as bright as it had in the beginning.  
  
Theerese smiled to herself. In this life, so different from the one she'd expected for herself, from the one she'd been raised to live, she couldn't lose. She just couldn't stop winning.


End file.
